


In Which Snow and Charming Play

by misscam



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:02:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4415003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscam/pseuds/misscam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being with Charming has been quite the sexual education. They've learned together, always together. They've learned what they like, what they don't like, what they love, and explored each other's fantasies. And every now and then, they've realized that they like to play. [Snow/Charming]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: In Which Snow and Charming Play Shepherd and Princess

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt asking for shepherd Charming and princess Snow. Basically a fic consisting of a series of chapters of consenting adults engaging in roleplay and the occasional light bondage. Basically, mostly PWP. You have been warned. You may also make requests for roleplays you might like to see. Thanks to Hayley for helping to inspire this one.

In Which Snow and Charming Plays  
by misscam

Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my words.

II

Chapter One: In Which Snow and Charming Play Shepherd and Princess

II

Growing up as a young girl, princess and quite sheltered, Snow White did still pick up a few things about sex. She figured it was something between two people, something rather indecent and naughty from how it was always spoken of in hushed whispers, something only done at night under the covers, something that could be great but also awful, something some women believed they should endure and not participate in. 

As she became older, she did realize that how sex was viewed could vary wildly depending on experience with it, and when she got her own...

Well.

Being with Charming has been quite the sexual education. For him too, she knows, because he had no more experience than her when they got together. They've learned together, always together. 

They've learned what they like, what they don't like, what they love. They've discovered variations on foreplay and the act itself, and that sex isn't just fucking but a whole lot more. They've found each other's sensitive spots and explored each other's fantasies. 

And every now and then, they've realized that they like to play.

II

“Princess?”

Snow hides a smile as she watches her husband approach her throne in the empty and locked audience chamber (not wanting an audience for this private... act), trying very hard to look like a humble shepherd. Trying very hard but failing a bit, because Charming has picked up quite a lot of well-deserved arrogance when it comes to her. 

“Shepherd,” she says with her royal voice, and Charming's eyes twinkle at her. “You requested a private audience?”

“I did, Your Majesty,” he says, approaching her until he's a few feet away. He's wearing a simple white shirt and leather pants, but oh, does he look good. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

“I always have time for a hardworking and loyal subject of my kingdom,” she says, smiling. “What can I do for you, shepherd?”

He shifts on his feet. “I'm afraid a warlord named Bo Peep have been terrorizing the sheep farms in my area, Your Majesty, and left us unable to pay our taxes.”

“What?” she says, rising in outrage as she is damn sure she would have if she had heard of this as a princess. “I will dispatch royal guards immediately to investigate the situation and put an end to it.”

“We have... stopped her temporarily,” Charming says awkwardly. “She has been defeated, but we cannot recover our money as she has hidden it away, Your Majesty.”

“I will have her taken into custody and discover where she has hidden her stolen gains,” she replies. “In the meantime, the royal treasury will cover the amount stolen.”

“You are most gracious,” Charming says, kneeling. “You truly are the fairest of them all, princess.”

She blushes. “It was the least I could do, shepherd. Please tell me, who defeated her.”

He stays kneeling, looking up at her with bright, blue eyes. “I... It was me, Your Majesty.”

“You are to be thanked, then,” she says softly, holding out a hand. He takes it, rising up to look her in the eye. “You have honorably stood up against a warlord. Please, shepherd, allow me to grant any boon you may desire.”

“Any boon?” he repeats. Already, the heat in his gaze is making her lick her lips.

“Any boon,” she confirms. “A title, riches, anything you want that I can grant is yours, shepherd.”

“A kiss,” he says, and she tilts her head at him. “I wish for a kiss from my princess.”

“Not riches or a titles?” she asks, and he steps boldly forward, close enough that his body is almost touching hers.

“No, princess,” he says. “A kiss from you would be a far greater treasure than any riches or titles.”

That is true to Charming, she knows, biting her lip. 

“A kiss does not seem enough to reward you,” she says firmly. “I must do insist on granting you a proper boon, shepherd. Something you truly desire.”

“A night,” he says boldly, putting his arms around her waist and making her gasp. “A night of kisses and anything else my princess would be willing to grant me.”

“Very forward, my shepherd,” she murmurs. “But I did offer you any boon you desire and you desire...”

“You, princess,” he says hotly.

“Me,” she says, swallowing. “I am a princess of my word. I am yours for the night, shepherd. You may kiss me.”

He dips his head down, lifting a hand to her neck while keeping the other at her back. She parts her lips in anticipation even before he kisses her, and he makes an appreciative hum before his lips are on her.

It's not just a kiss, but a _kiss_ , with his mouth glued to hers, his tongue exploring her mouth and making her moan and turning her breathing increasingly ragged. She presses herself against him, wanting more, wanting him, and letting her hands tear at his shirt. 

He breaks the kiss to let her breathe, but remains so close she can feel his breath across her lips. 

“You kiss well, shepherd,” she gasps, and he smirks for a moment before catching himself.

“Thank you, princess,” he says, an attempt at humble that mostly fails, but at least he tried. “You are a great princess that deserves only the best. Please allow your humble subject to kiss you _well_ again.”

“Please do,” she manages to say, and he is kissing her again and it's more than well, as he damn well knows, the bastard. It's a thorough, hot kiss that leaves her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed. 

He is really putting an effort into this, she thinks distantly. If he truly had been a shepherd she didn't know and kissed her like _this_ , she's pretty sure she would never have let him leave the castle. 

“Princess,” he murmurs against her lips. “You look flustered. If you would be willing... May I remove your own?”

“Please,” she gasps, biting his lower lip lightly and finding herself quite pleased by his low growl. She can feel his hands on her shoulders, teasing the dress slightly down and letting his fingers caress the exposed skin. 

“You are so beautiful,” he says, lowering his head to her neck and kissing, nibbling, biting and sucking his way down towards her shoulder. He seems to be in a meticulous mood, she thinks, clinging to him, and it's frustrating her and turning her on in equal measure.

“My dress, shepherd,” she reminds him, and he grins against her skin. 

“Yes, princess,” he says humbly, pressing a kiss to her shoulder before turning her around. She can feel his hands working on the laces of her dress, while his mouth roams the back of her neck. (She is glad she is wearing her hair up today after all.) Oh. Oh. He hasn't even gotten her naked yet and she still wants him so badly she aches with it. 

His fingers brush the naked skin on her back as he works his way down the laces, managing to make undressing feel like caressing. His mouth is moving down her back as well, and she can only breathe, breathe, breathe. 

“No corset, princess?” he inquires pleasantly, his hands slipping to her waist. 

“No,” she gasps, as he pushes her dress downwards. She steps out of it, leaving her in only in her shoes and silk underwear. And his hands, as he moves them upwards to cup her breasts, continuing to kiss her neck and shoulder. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers, his breath brushing her skin seconds before his lips do. “You are so beautiful, princess. Who you are makes you so beautiful.”

“I...” she says, trying to get air into her lungs. His thumbs are brushing her nipples, and his mouth is pressing hot kisses against her skin, and Gods, he is good at seductive shepherd. Very good. “I...”

“Yes, princess?” he asks softly, catching her earlobe between his teeth. 

“I want you, shepherd,” she says breathlessly, managing to get a hint of royal command into it at least. 

His mouth is hot against her ear, kissing and biting between whispering. “I am yours, princess. I'm _your_ shepherd. Forever.”

 _Yes_ , she thinks possessively. 

“Please,” she breathes, not sure what she's asking for. He seems to take it as an invitation to become even bolder, though, one hand slipping downwards and inside her underwear. Steadying her against him with the other hand, he brushes two fingers against her and she can only whimper. 

“Do you like this, princess?” he whispers, kissing her shoulder. 

“Yes,” she sighs, letting her head fall backwards against his shoulder. “ _Yes_.” 

“Good,” he hums, continuing to run his fingers slowly up and down, up and down, pausing sometimes to suck at the spot where her neck meets her shoulder. She feels lightheaded with desire, and can hear herself pant.

“Wait,” she breathes, and he pauses.

“What do you want, princess?” he whispers hotly against her ear. “Just ask. What do you want, princess? I am yours.”

“I want you,” she says, trying to steady her voice and breathing. 

“How, princess?” he goes on. “Tell me, princess. How do you want me?”

She swallows, a multitude of scenarios running through her mind, all of them wonderful. She can't choose, she can't...

“How, princess?” he repeats, relentless, rubbing his fingers against her again, which really is no help at all when it comes to trying to think. She wants him, wants him so badly it's painful. 

“Underneath me,” she practically growls. “On my throne. No clothes, shepherd.”

“As you wish, princess,” he says softly, but she can hear a catch in his voice too. The loss of his fingers makes her whimper, but a moment later he turns her around to face him. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are dark with desire, she notices, quite pleased that his teasing of her has gotten him too. 

She digs her fists into his shirt and yanks him to her in a hard, demanding kiss, as his arms go around her and he's lifting her up and carrying her. It's only a few feet before he gently sits her down, kneeling at her feet for a moment and putting his hand on her shoes. 

“Please allow me,” he murmurs, phrasing it as a request but managing to make it sound just as much as a command. She nods as regally as she can manage, watching him through lowered eyelids as he slips her shoes off, kissing her ankles as he does. Next, he sits up slightly and leans forward, his hands moving up her thighs, stroking as they do. She lifts herself up enough to let him peel her underwear off, and then he leans even further forward and presses a kiss between her legs. 

She is thankful for the sturdy throne underneath her, she has to admit, because she's not sure her legs would manage to carry her through this. She can feel his lips, his breath and a faint brush of his tongue, the sensations like jolts of pleasure shooting through her.

He smiles as he stands up a few moments later, gazing down at her.

“No clothes, princess?” he asks, and she nods. She watches, as he effectively pulls his shirt up and off. He gives her a moment appreciate the view of his chest and arms, then sits down on the steps and pulls his leather boots off. He stands up to let his leather pants follow, and then his underwear.

He stands before her naked for a moment, watching her watching him, clearly enjoying whatever her expression is. She has to admit that seeing him like this, all skin, all muscles, his cock already so hard, that is beautiful to her. He is beautiful to her. 

“On your throne, princess?” he asks. “Your shepherd underneath you?”

“Yes,” she says breathlessly. “Yes.”

He smiles as he holds out a hand. She takes it, letting him help her stand before he sits down instead and then eases her into his lap. Fortunately, the throne is spacious, allowing her to straddle him. 

“Princess?” he says, lifting a hand to her neck. “May I... Your hair, I...”

“You may,” she manages to say in a thick voice, leaning forward to kiss his neck while he fumbles with the pins and jewels in her hair. He sighs happily when he manages to get her hair to fall and tumble freely, wildly down her back. 

“You're so beautiful,” he says reverently, and she knows she always is to him. In a gown worthy of a princess, in a bandit outfit, in her riding outfits, in her nightgown, or naked on his lap with her hair free, like now. Always beautiful to him, and she loves him for it.

“What else do you want, princess?” he murmurs, closing his eyes for a moment as she runs a finger down the length of his erection. “Sn... Princess... Ah... Tell me what you want.”

“You,” she says, pressing her forehead against his. “Inside me. Now. I want...”

“This?” he asks breathlessly, using his palms to lift her up and lowering her on him again slowly, agonizingly slowly, inch by inch until he's all inside her, hard and smooth.

“Yes,” she moans, and kisses him, his hands settling on her waist to help her move as she wishes. She settles for rocking her hips back and forth at first, all the while kissing him greedily. She wants him. She will always want him, all of him, everything he is. She wants him as a shepherd just as much as she wants him as a prince, as anything he's been or ever will be.

“My shepherd,” she says, drawing her fingers across his parted lips as she pulls back slightly. 

“I always will be,” he swears. “You will always have me, princess.”

His thighs are soft and hard at the same time against her buttocks, and she can hear the sound of her skin meeting his every time she rises and falls on him, mixed with the sound of their uneven breathing. She can hear her own heartbeats too, or at least something that seems to drum through her body at an increasing pace. 

Charming's face is a mask of pleasure and concentration, his lips parted to meet her kisses and let out soft moans and groans the rest of the time. His cheeks are hot under her palms, and he never looks away from her face. His gaze is loving and desirous, his eyelids occasionally fluttering when she clenches her muscles around him. His hands are warm on her waist as he helps her move, but at her own pace, so damn determined to have it be everything she wants.

It is wonderful, she will give him that. The friction of rocking back and forth on him, the sensation of pressing herself down on him again and again, the feeling of him deep inside her... Yes. She can barely breathe from all the pleasure pulsing inside her, but she wants, she needs...

“Please,” she whimpers, digging her fingers into his shoulders. “I...”

“Close?” he growls. 

“So close,” she confirms breathlessly, and he makes a rather undignified noise.

“Tell me,” he implores, breathlessly, his face bright. “Tell me, princess.”

“Harder,” she manages to say, and he shifts slightly underneath her and then thrusts into her, hard and forcefully, and yes, yes, fucking _yes_. 

“Like this?” he growls. 

“Yes,” she says, biting down on his lower lip before sucking on it. He thrusts again, and again, hard and fast, and she clings to him as everything becomes pleasure and only pleasure. She can't even feel her body, just brightness, claiming her.

Dimly, she becomes aware of her own breathing again, uneven and slowly steadying. She can feel Charming's hands on her back too, holding her against him, then slowly beginning to rub circles. He must have had a rather good orgasm right along with her, she can tell, and for several moments they just stay like they are. 

“Snow,” he murmurs affectionately, lifting her head to look at her. 

“Mm,” she says dreamily, feeling too lazy to say anything else.

He smiles, kissing her very tenderly before letting her rest against his shoulder. They stay for a while like that, always enjoying the sensation of being close afterwards too.

“Did you enjoy your boon, shepherd?” she asks after a while, and he chuckles before adopting a more serious tone.

“I enjoyed this very much, princess,” he says, and she lifts her head to look at him. “Thank you for allowing your humble subject to please you as you wanted. But I'm afraid...”

“What?” she asks, drawing her thumb across his scar. “Tell me, shepherd.”

“I'm afraid I will require more,” he says boldly, and she raises an eyebrow at him. “The boon you granted me was you and anything you were willing to grant me, princess – for a night. And it's only evening.”

“You're right,” she sighs, running her hand down his chest. “You will find I am very willing to grant your every desire, shepherd. Tell me. What do you want?”

“I want to take you upstairs,” he murmurs, closing his eyes briefly as she kisses the skin above his heart. “I want to keep you in your royal bed and make love to you all night, princess.”

“Mmm,” she hums, closing her eyes as he draws her thumb into her mouth. “Please do.”

(He does; sneaking her upstairs in his shirt and his leather boots, shirtless himself while carrying her rumpled dress and seduces her over and over again until they fall asleep breathlessly in each other's arms.

And in the morning, Charming wakes Snow with a kiss, and makes love to his wife, his princess, his bandit, his true love and all the other things she is.)


	2. Chapter Two: In Which Snow and Charming Play Bandit and Sheriff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consentual bondage in this chapter. If not your thing, feel free to skip.

II

Chapter Two: In Which Snow and Charming Play Bandit and Sheriff

II

There are times when Snow becomes aware of just how tall her husband is compared to her and just how strong and imposing he can be. And this, this is definitely one of those times.

She's trapped between him and one of the wooden beams and in his arms, and he's looking down at her with a predatory glint in his eyes.

“All mine, bandit,” he says, his voice low and possessive, and this little play they're doing is already doing things to her, Gods help her. “I've caught you, Snow White.”

“You may have caught me, sheriff. _Temporarily_ ,” she says defiantly, a challenge that he smirks at. 

“Plans to escape already?” he murmurs, leaning down until his lips are inches from hers. “That won't do.”

She swallows, feeling the steel of his cuffs against her skin as he expertly snaps them shut around her wrists. 

“There is no escaping my custody, Snow White,” he says, and she can hear the desire creeping into his voice. “You are mine now.”

“You think you can hold the infamous Snow White, sheriff Charming?” she challenges.

“Yes,” he says, and moves in for a kiss, trapping her handcuffed wrists against his chest. Or rather, it's a continued tease of a kiss, she discovers, his lips brushing hers again and again, teasing, tilting his head and changing the angle again and again, tugging just lightly at her lower lip until she is groaning with impatience.

He pulls back slightly, running this thumb across her lower lip intently. 

“You will have to do better than that, sheriff,” she says, and he grins at how breathless she already sounds. Bastard. Her beloved bastard of a teasing husband, but still. Bastard. 

“Oh, I plan to,” he says confidently, lifting her hands up and up, attaching the handcuffs to something she can't see but is at just the perfect height to trap her hands above her but not making her hang by them, leaving her to suspect he has damn well measured and put it up in advance, and planned to do exactly this. “I have so many plans for you, my bandit.”

She swallows, as he cradles her head in his hands. He looks at her intently as she breathes, parting her lips with his thumb. She tries to keep her face even, but she is fairly certain she fails. 

He finally, _finally_ kisses her, a relentless and demanding kiss, his tongue teasing and brushing inside her mouth, his mouth swallowing all her moans. She finds herself pressed against the wooden beam by the force of it, but honestly, she is glad for the support as he continues to kiss her. He keeps one hand at the back of her neck, pressing her against him, the other roaming along her side, her back, her hips, her upper thighs, anywhere he can reach.

She draws a deep, shuddering breath when he pulls back slightly, trying to get air into her lungs. He is breathing hard too, at least, moisture from her mouth clinging to his lips. 

“How was that, my bandit?” he asks hoarsely. “Did I do better?”

She can only nod, not trusting her voice. 

He dips his head down for another kiss, catching her upper lip between his lips and scraping his teeth against them before brushing his tongue along, tracing every inch of her upper lip. He repeats the procedure on her lower lip, and her lips feel wonderfully swollen and heavy by the time he is finished. 

He looks at her carefully, putting his hands on her shoulders, massaging lightly. 

“Uncomfortable?” he murmurs, and she shakes her head. “Good. Now, my bandit, I will have to conduct a thorough body search to make sure you're not carrying any concealed weapons. Since you have already confessed your plans to escape your sheriff, I am afraid you leave me no choice but to strip you naked.”

She manages to raise an eyebrow at him, then swallows as he runs his hand down her front. He did ask her to wear expandable clothes for the evening, and she's starting to get an idea why. 

“I... I understand, sheriff,” she manages to say, and he rewards her with a soft, soft kiss to her lips. 

He goes down on his knees, and she looks down at him as he helps steady her to remove one shoe, then the other. She can only watch the top of his head as he lifts her shirt up and presses a kiss against her stomach above the waistline of her pants. She can feel his tongue against her navel, and hear his fingers work on the zipper and button of her old, ragged jeans. He pulls them off slowly, following the downward path of exposed skin with his mouth, and finally tossing her jeans carelessly to the side. 

“Good,” murmurs, mostly to himself, beginning another path of kisses upwards, and this time on the inside. She can only breathe, and breathe, and sigh at the sensation of his mouth against her inner thighs. He even pauses to suck lightly, and she can feel him smile at the noise she makes at that. 

She expects him to go for her underwear next, but he doesn't, instead standing up to gaze down at her shirt. Oh. Right. That isn't that easily removed with her hands cuffed above her.

“Conflicted, sheriff?” she challenges, and he raises an eyebrow at her. “A hard choice indeed. To release your bandit to remove all her clothes and risk her escaping, or to keep her handcuffed as she is, but not naked.”

“Not at all,” he says brightly. “There's a third option.”

He turns, walking over to their bedside table, and pulls out a pair of scissors. No just normal scissors, no. Scissors for cutting fabric. She can recognize that easily enough, having worked as a teacher during the curse. 

Oh, she thinks. _That's_ why he asked her to wear expendable clothes.

“That's cheating,” she protests as he approaches.

“No,” he says, kissing her firmly. “That's advanced planning. Very useful in the capturing and detaining of bandits.”

She pouts, and he smirks before pressing another kiss to her pouting lips, then sets to work. She can only watch this face, intent and focused on his task, his tongue sticking out slightly between his lips in a way that makes her want to draw it into her mouth. 

He doesn't completely shred her shirt, only making the necessary cuts to free her arms from the sleeves and along her side, and being extremely careful not to touch her skin in any way. He tosses the ruined garment aside when finished, pausing to press kisses to the top of her breasts above her bra. 

He only cuts the straps of her bra, then tossing the scissors aside. His hands are warm as they move to her back, unhooking her bra and using his teeth to actually pull it off her before dropping it to the floor. 

Oh fuck, she thinks, drawing a quick breath, then another as his teeth find her nipple. He bites lightly, so lightly, and she still groans helplessly. His hands remain on her back, supporting her and stroking her skin as he bites again, then circles her nipple with his tongue, before drawing as much of her breast as he can into her mouth, and she tries to remember how to breathe and not just moan. 

He moves to pepper kisses across her other breast, touching every inch of skin except the nipple, which makes her arch into him in desperation until finally, finally, he moves his hand and rubs it with his thumb, and she sighs in satisfaction. 

“My bandit,” he murmurs hotly.

“For now,” she replies as cheekily as she can manage.

“Forever,” he swears, kissing her hotly, and she draws his tongue into her mouth just like she wanted earlier, earning a satisfied moan from him. He seems content to kiss her for a few moments, his hands caressing the sides of her breasts, but then he abruptly pulls away, leaving her gasping.

She can only watch as he goes down on his knees, his hands on her hips, and his mouth pressing kisses against her underwear that makes her feel the heat of his mouth.

“Silk,” he murmurs. “I like it. But not as much as I like your skin. I love your skin.”

He does, she knows, and feels it as he draws his lips across the skin of her stomach, his hands peeling her underwear off before turning to slide his palm right between her legs, slowly but relentlessly rubbing her. 

Oh Gods, oh fuck, oh Charming, she thinks, biting her own lip hard. She strains pointlessly against the handcuffs just because it gives her something to focus on that isn't his hand and his mouth, but she's pretty sure it isn't working too well. 

Her legs are never going to carry her through this, she thinks dimly. 

He seems to become aware of that, pulling away when she slumps against the wooden beam slightly. He stands up, looking at her, stroking her flushed cheek with his thumb.

“Bed,” he mutters, mostly to himself, but she shakes her head. No. He has kissed her, teased her and she's pretty sure he's planning a whole lot more of it. 

“Want you,” she breathes. “Now.”

He stares at her for a long second, then groans. “You're... _Fuck_. You look so good, so fucking good right now, I... You're a danger to all sheriffs, my bandit.”

She licks her lips. “If I'm _your_ bandit, prove it. Claim me.”

He stares at her, clearly having some sort of internal battle.

“Fuck,” he says again, catching her lips in a searing kiss. She can hear the sound of his zipper, and feel him fumble out of his pants, but he never stops kissing her, his mouth hot against hers all the while. He lifts her up, freeing her from whatever her handcuffs were attached to, allowing her to put her hands behind his neck. She links her legs around him too, kissing him greedily and needily.

They both gasp at the sensation as he thrusts into her, using the wooden beam at her back as leverage to get deep inside her, and again, and again, quick, hard, deep thrusts that soon has her head rolling to her side and leaves her half moaning, half whimpering. 

“You look so good like this, Snow,” he whispers in a strained voice, kissing the side of her mouth. She wants to dig her fingers into his shoulder, but she can't. She can only lace her fingers in her own and try to hang on, try to...

Oh no, oh fuck, she isn't going to last long like this, she is beginning to realize, all his foreplay having left her so close already, and the friction every time he thrusts into her is so good, the feeling of him hard inside her as deep as he can go is so good, it's all good and fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

He whole body shudders as she comes really hard, and she buries her head against his shoulder, her breath just stuttered gasps. He cradles her face gently, remaining completely still and whispering reassuringly to her in a strained voice. 

It must be costing him a great deal of effort, she thinks distantly, because he's still hard inside her. She can feel him steady himself slightly, then carry her unsteadily towards the bed, lowering them both onto it. She closes her eyes as he kisses her face, over and over, making a few slow thrusts until his hips jerk and he bites her name into her shoulder. 

They both lie breathing heavily for a long time, Charming occasionally pressing nuzzling kisses against her neck. She feels too good to move, so she simply lies there, even when he gets up. She watches him through lowered eyelids as he removes his t-shirt, leaving him as naked as her, and she lets herself enjoy the sight of him walking into the kitchen to pick up two bottles of water. The loft is all theirs for the weekend, something they are rather taking advantage of.

He walks back to her, unscrewing the cap of her bottle and offering it to her. Drinking with her hands cuffed is a bit clumsy, but doable, and the cold water does feel really good. He accepts the bottle from her when she's finished, putting it on the nightstand next to his, then lies down next to her on the bed, pressing a few light kisses against her lips. 

“You ruined my plan,” he says sternly.

“I am a bandit,” she points out, and he chuckles, then reaches into the nightstand drawer and pulls out the key to the handcuffs. “Not in your pocket, sheriff?”

“Not trusting a bandit not to pick-pocket me,” he says, and she laughs. He kisses her wrists as he unlocks the cuffs, soft, caressing kisses. But she has no time to consider herself free before he reaches underneath the pillow and pulls out silk scarfs.

“We're not done yet,” he says, and she swallows at the obvious desire in his eyes. 

“Am I to endure more of your _custody_ , sheriff?” she manages to say.

“Yes,” he says, eyes dark. “Much more. You are in _my_ custody, my bandit. You may have ruined my first plan, but I have so many others. I am not letting you go so easily. ”

She swallows again. When they discussed this particular fantasy, she has to admit that the thought of being in Charming's power (by agreement, of curse) did turn her on quite, quite badly, and he damn well knew it. (As well as being quite turned on by it himself, of course.) So she really, really should have expected him to have a lot of plans for this scenario. 

Oh, Gods. She's going to lose her mind and love doing it. 

“Snow?” he says, breaking character for a moment when he notices her look. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she says, smiling reassuringly at him, and he presses a gentle kiss to her hand and waits. “Yes, sheriff. I am in your custody. You caught me.”

“I did,” he says, his voice low. She can only lick her lips as he watches intently, clearly considering his options. “Lie down on the bed, your hands against the headboard.”

“And if I resist, sheriff?” she asks, and he lunges forward, kissing her hotly, pressing her downwards until she is lying on the bed. She can feel his hands catch her wrists, locking them above her head.

“Then I will just have to take matters into my own hands, bandit,” he murmurs, and she moans as he kisses her again, and again, the weight and feel of him against her body slowly starting to fan a slow burn through her senses. She might just have had a pretty good orgasm, but her brain is firmly insisting that yes, please, will take another. 

She can feel him tie her hands to the headboard, unable to prevent it, and he growls in triumph when he finishes, his hands beginning to roam her body just as triumphantly. She bites down on his lower lip in response, but he just likes that, sighing happily and doing the same to her. 

“My bandit,” he mutters, kissing her hard. “ _Mine_.”

Yes, she thinks, but doesn't say. Not yet. Instead she arches into him as best she can, enjoying the sensation of his skin against hers. She may not be able to touch him, but she can feel him, all of him, his skin brushing hers whenever he moves. 

He breaks the kiss to gaze down on her, putting a finger against her lips when she tries to reach him to kiss him again. 

“No,” he says, his voice thick. “I have plans.”

She swallows at the heat in his gaze, then at the feeling of his mouth against her neck as he lowers his head. His hands aren't making things better, brushing her sides and her breasts, making her want more, want him, just _want_.

Just in case, she tries wriggling her bound hands, but glancing upwards, she can see the silk scarves aren't giving. Not that she expected them to, really, but it was worth a try. 

“You're not escaping that easily,” she hears Charming say, and she looks down again to see him give her amused glance, clearly having noticed her attempt. 

“Can't fault a bandit for trying,” she murmurs, and he grins. 

“Not at all,” he murmurs softly, brushing his thumb across her nipple and making her moan. “Can't fault a sheriff for foiling it, though.”

Before she can answer, he lowers his head to kiss a path along the underside of her breasts, his hands slipping down to her hips to hold them firmly in place. She soon realizes why, as his trail of kisses turn downwards and downwards, and she has a very good idea where he plans to end up. 

“ _Please_ ,” she she groans, and he turns his head upwards to look at her. His cheeks are flushed, she notices; it becomes him.

“Pleading already, my bandit?” he teases, and she shudders at his gaze and the way his thumb presses against her while he talks too. 

“ _Please_ ,” she repeats, unable to think of any other words. 

“Yes,” he says happily, lowering his head.

She tries to steady her breath, brace herself, but she still fucking whimpers his name when she feels his mouth between her legs, and again when his tongue brushes against her. Oh hell, oh fuck, oh everything.

His lips brush against so many sensitive nerves while he licks into her too, and she balls her fists at how wonderfully, torturously good it feels. She still remembers the first time he did this too her, hesitant and careful at first, with increasing delight as he realized just how much she enjoyed it. He's picked up a lot about just how she likes it since then as well, and fuck him, he's exploiting all of that now.

She can't think, can barely breathe, everything in her brain seeming focus on how his mouth feels, his fingers feel and how it's making her feel. Every cell in her body feels like it's tingling, every inch of her skin feels flushed and every sensation is pleasure, becoming a haze of it in her mind until she can't even tell just what he's doing anymore, just that it's good, so good, so...

Her mind drifts off, leaving just a blissful blank that she floats in for... She isn't even sure for how long, just that it seems to stretch on. Slowly, she begins to register noises again. Her own breathing. Her own heartbeat. Charming's soft voice, speaking her name.

She blinks, managing to focus her gaze to see him having moved to be propped up on his elbow by her. 

“Snow?” he asks softly. 

“M'good,” she murmurs, closing her eyes again. 

“Good,” she hears him say, kissing her temple. She hears him shift slightly, and then drink, before settling down next to her. He rests one arm across her, then moves a blanket across them both. “Comfortable?”

“Mmm,” she says, not having the strength to say yes. Charming seems perfectly content to wait, idly caressing her side with his hand and pressing occasional kisses against her shoulder. She feels wonderfully relaxed, but not tired. 

She turns her head towards him as best she can, kissing his chin before finding his lips. He tastes slightly of cold water, and she nips at his lips and licks the corners of his mouth. He hums happily, stroking her neck before flipping himself on top of her. She can feel his cock, hard as it rubs against her upper thigh, and she can feel something like a sharp twitch between her legs at that.

“I'm going to make love to you so slowly,” he murmurs, the heat in his gaze to palatable she feels a flush through her entire body. “My bandit.” 

“Mmm,” she manages to say, feeling his gaze on her face the entire time as he slowly, slowly slides into her. She parts her lips, letting out a soundless sigh at the increasing wonderful sensation that is something akin to being filled. 

“ _Yes_ ,” he says, his own voice barely even a breath. 

He cradles her head in his hands, pressing light kisses against her lips and watching her, never closing his eyes as he moves, slow, slow pushes that feels deeper every time. Her own body seems to want that too, her hips seeming to move to draw him deeper in of their own will. He seems to delight in her reactions as much as his own pleasure, his eyes brightening with every moan she makes. 

“Yes, Snow,” he coaxes, kissing her lips as she moans at another slow push. “My bandit. My beloved bandit. My Snow.”

“I...” she breathes. “Cha.... Cha-arming.”

Her body feels as if it is coming more and more to life, every nerve standing to attention, tensing with every stroke of his cock, so hard inside her. He's moved one hand down too, his thumb making slow, slow circles against the nerves between her legs, and every touch is adding to the pleasure and the tension too. She feels wound up, wound up by pleasure, closer and closer to snapping.

“ _OhGod_ ,” she breathes, tearing at her bonds a touch helplessly, not because she thinks they will give, but because it's something she can do, something that isn't this relentless build of pleasure that is everywhere and everything. 

“Snow,” he coaxes, his voice low. “Let go.”

_Fuck_ , she thinks, as he pushes deep into her again. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck. 

It feels like a release this time, just giving in, surrendering, letting go. She is dimly aware of Charming saying her name with an increasingly hoarse voice, eventually shuddering and collapsing on top of her. She presses a few kisses against his chest, hearing his breath steady. They lie still for a while, just breathing, just feeling, but eventually he shifts, lifting his hand to the headboard and untying her from it, though not untying her hands. 

“I'm going to kiss every inch of your skin,” he murmurs. “Already done one side.”

She blinks up at him, and he just smiles, kissing her softly before pushing the blanket away and turning her around.

Oh, she thinks distantly. She watches him as he ties the end of the scarf of the headboard, giving her enough slack to move a little, but not escape the bed. Next, he eases a pillow underneath her hips, pressing several kisses along her buttocks. She can only sigh into the pillow he has her resting her head on, barely aware of her body and with no strength to move any of her limbs. 

“My bandit,” he murmurs, kissing his way up her back, his palms following with slow strokes. “All mine.”

“Yes,” she sighs, giving in. “I'm yours.”

He growls softly at her reply, and she can feel his cock brush her buttocks as he moves to kiss her shoulder. Even with all the times he's already fucked her tonight, she still feels a sharp jolt of pleasure at that. He's not hard again yet, no, but she has no doubt he will be eventually. He takes far too much pleasure in touching and kissing her not to. 

He takes his time kissing her shoulder, her neck, her arms, and moving downwards again, down her back and along her buttocks, pausing for a moment to slide his palm between her legs. She closes her eyes at that, letting herself just feel as he strokes his fingers against her between kisses to her inner thighs. 

“Good?” she hears him ask.

“Good,” she replies, managing to lift her head enough to reply. 

She bites into the pillow as he presses a kiss between her legs, then continues his path of kisses down her legs. He really is determined to kiss every inch of her skin, it seems like, even her heel and toes and underside of her feet, making her shiver, though not from being cold.

He starts upwards again, still taking his time, as if to make sure he hasn't missed a spot, stroking her with his large palms too, and her breath is definitely starting to catch again, oh yes. He pauses to actually lick a bit of sweat from her lower back before kissing her there, then tracing the outline of her spine with open, moist kisses.

“My bandit,” he murmurs as he reaches her shoulder.

“Yours,” she agrees again, and he kisses the back of her neck, humming happily as he does. She can feel his cock brush her buttocks again, this time hard, and she knows that fuck her, she's about to get fucked again. His hands move to her hips, steadying her before he thrusts softly into her, and she moans into the pillow. 

“Good?” he asks, and she can hear the strain in his voice from keeping still.

“Good,” she assures him, and it's true. It is. Every part of her is going to feel sore tomorrow, but right now, it's all so good.

“Love you,” he says in the same strained voice, then thrusts again, picking a pace that isn't slow, but not exactly hurried either, just steady. He leans forward to press kisses against her back and sometimes her shoulders, his fingers digging into her hips. Every time he thrusts, she can hear it and feel it, and as much as they do usually prefer to make love face to face, she has to admit that not seeing him and just feeling and hearing him is strangely erotic too.

She can imagine his expression when he moans, the possessive look in his eyes when he kisses her skin, how his lips part when he pants, how he closes his eyes when she clenches her muscles around him. She can imagine it so vividly it makes her own breath catch too, mingling with the moans she's making at every thrust. 

He's so close, she knows, hearing it in in the noises he's making, feeling it in his thrusts, and sure enough, he stutters her name and then falls forward, pressing his forehead against her shoulder while his body shudders. 

This feels so good too, she thinks, Charming completely lost in her. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice shaking. “I was going to get you too, but...”

“Charming,” she says sternly, swallowing to steady her voice. “You've given me three fucking orgasms tonight and I wouldn't have survived another so don't even think about it.”

“I will think about it,” he says, kissing her shoulder, and she groans. “Later. Maybe tomorrow morning.”

She can't help but laugh. Of course. “Now that you have proven your point, sheriff, perhaps you might release me?”

“Mmm,” he says, moving off her. She can hear him move around before entering her field of vision, using the pair of scissors from earlier to cut her loose. As she sits up, he moves to sit against the headboard, letting her crawl onto his lap and moving the blankets around them again. 

“I'm spent,” she murmurs breathlessly as he lifts her hands up to look at her wrists, kissing the faint marks of her restraints.

“Okay,” he says, smiling at her. “You good?” 

“Better,” she assures him. 

“I got a bit carried away, didn't I?” he murmurs, managing to look slightly bashful.

“Mmm,” she agrees, touching his cheek softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says, kissing her tenderly. “And you're going to get even with me for all that, aren't you?”

“For helplessly enduring all those wonderful-to-the-point-of-torturous things you just did to me and with me? Oh yeah,” she says brightly, and his eyes widen in arousal. “You're going to get so fucked, my darling Charming. At least as fucked as I was.”

He groans. “What are you thinking?”

She smiles innocently. “Perhaps a bandit once found herself robbing the prince himself rather than his jewels and had him all tied up all to herself.”

“Mmm,” he says, licking his lips lightly for a moment. “That might be fun.”

“You sure?” she says softly. “I don't want you to... You know our agreement.”

He catches her hand in his, smiling at her. “I know. We don't do anything unless we both want it. We do it together or not at all. But Snow... I want it too. I quite... like the idea of being _robbed_.”

“Good,” she says, resting her head against his shoulder. She will have to find a way to make that particular scenario happen sooner or later, then. “So what happens to the bandit now?”

“Oh, after admitting she belongs to the sheriff, he keeps her in his lifelong, loving custody,” he says, and she smiles at that image. “Between you and me, I think he was in love with the bandit and used his sheriff privileges to seduce her.”

“I think you're right,” she agrees, yawning slightly. “Luckily for him, the bandit was in love with him too and wanted to get caught.”

“A happy ending,” he says, kissing her eyelids as she closes her eyes. She feels him move them both to lie down, she on top and curled up against him. “Sleep, my bandit.”

“Mmm,” she agrees sleepily. “Love you, my sheriff.”

She falls asleep like that, in the loving arms of her husband and lifelong custody of her sheriff.


	3. In Which Snow and Charming Play Teachers' Night

II

In Which Snow and Charming Play Teachers' Night

II

“Miss Blanchard?”

Glancing up, Snow sees her husband standing in the doorway, managing to somehow look adorably hesitant. It makes it extremely tempting to walk over and just kiss him right away, but that would rather ruin the act before they've even really started. 

(And she has gone to trouble to get this one set up, even getting the use of a unused classroom where they won't be disturbed in any way.)

“Mr. Nolan,” she says instead, smiling at him. “I didn't know you were working late as well.”

He gives her a soft smile. “Am I disturbing you?”

“I could use the break from reading 5th grade thoughts on how to care for birds,” she says, and he grins, walking slowly into the room. 

“I wanted a break from reading 7th grade math homework,” he says, and she giggles, making him smile. 

“Are you enjoying teaching so far?” she asks, as he approaches her desk. 

“Yes,” he says. “When I was in school myself, I never dreamed of becoming a teacher, but it is rewarding.”

She leans back slightly in her chair to meet his gaze properly. He is very, very tall when she is sitting and is standing, she notes, and very much appreciates. 

“What did you dream of in school? The girl in front of you?” she teases lightly. 

“The girl across the classroom,” he replies seriously. 

“Oh?” she asks, feeling her breath catch with the intensity of his gaze. “What happened to her?”

“She became the teacher I dreamed of instead,” he says, and she parts her lips. “Why do you think I always work late when you do?”

“Mr. Nolan...” she says breathlessly. 

“I understand if you don't feel the same way, Miss Blanchard,” he says, lowering his gaze, managing to look bashful quite, quite well. “You're so beautiful, like a fairy tale princess. I understand if...”

She stands up and pulls him in for a hard kiss, not caring that the desk is between them. He makes a soft noise of surprise, then just moans as her lips find his. As always, she appreciates that he has wonderfully full lips, the sensation of them against hers always making her breath catch a little. Her breath catches even more when he parts his lips, and she can feel him breathe into the kiss. 

She wants him closer and the kiss deeper, but with the desk between them, that is a bit of an issue. So she simply climbs on top of it, sitting down on her knees and feeling his arms come around her and pull her just as close as she wanted. He deepens the kiss too, his tongue licking its way into her mouth in a way that makes her certain her legs wouldn't carry her too well if she was still standing. 

She moans her encouragement, feeling his hands roam her back while pressing her against him, her own hands called into his sweater to keep him kissing her. 

They're both breathing hard as he pulls away just slightly, his lips clinging to hers for a moment. Very gently, he lifts her up, easing her to sit down on the desk properly before stepping in between her legs, cradling her face in his hands.

“Miss Blanchard,” he says, his voice thick. 

“I think you can call me Mary Margaret now,” she offers, her own voice breathless. “Is this what you dreamed of?”

His eyes are dark as he looks at her. “Yes. To start with.”

“Oh,” she says, licking her lips. “What did you dream of next?”

“Fucking you right here on your teacher's desk,” he says, and she can hear the desire in his voice. “Hard and deep while you were clinging to me, whimpering my name.”

She closes her eyes, envisioning it and almost whimpering at that alone. When she told him of her little teacher's fantasy of being fucked on her desk and he got adorably excited about it, she did prepare herself for something like this, yet... Hearing it spoken aloud by him in that voice is still... Oh, fuck.

“Yes,” she says, her eyes still closed. “Please.... That.”

“Please what?” he murmurs, and she can feel his breath across her lips. 

“Fuck me like that,” she whispers, her cheeks blazing, and his lips claim hers. She arches into it impatiently, using her legs on either side of him to press him closer as well. She wants him close, needs him close, already so much need and want making her head feel lightheaded and somehow heavy-headed at the same time. 

She can feel feel his fingers play at the back of her neck, the sensation of his fingertips dancing across her skin feeling like small jolts, sparking. Her body feels abuzz already, and it's not helped by slipping her own hands inside his sweater, feeling the smoothness of his chest under her palms. 

He groans, his hands moving downwards, tracing the curve of her spine and moving under her ass, squeezing lightly until she bites down on his lower lip in impatience. That makes his hands move across her thighs, dipping in underneath her skirt and finding the lace of her underwear. She chose to wear no stockings today, which she supposes is a sort of cheating since she only chose not to wear them knowing she would probably want his fingers right there quite badly and quite fast, but he makes no complaints.

He makes a satisfied noise into the kiss that makes her moan, and then moan again as he brushes his fingers across her lace panties, deliberately slowly. Far too slowly, and as much as she likes lace against her skin, his fingers are far superior.

“Please,” she growls into the kiss, pressing herself against his fingers as best she can. He seems to take the hint, lifting the hem of her panties and then wonderfully, moves his hand underneath. She isn't quite sure what noise she makes at the feeling of his hand pressed against her, but she does know she outright whimpers when he presses two fingers inside her and finds her already wet. 

This wasn't one of Mary Margaret's fantasies, being fingered by a hot, tall Prince Charming while simultaneously making out on her desk, but fuck it, it should have been. It's good, so good she whimpers and writhes, feeling his fingers rubbing inside her while his tongue brushes her, again and again. Vaguely, she's aware that time is passing, measured in jolts of pleasure rather than seconds. Her brain is starting to consider thinking overrated, but Charming's fingers on the other hand, definitely deserving of a great rating. A+, teacher's pet, oh fucking yes.

Her cheeks are blazing when he pulls back slightly, watching her through slightly lowered eyelids, his fingers never pausing. He wants to watch her have an orgasm, she realizes, right here, right now, on her desk and on his fingers. His thumb is moving too, rubbing circles, pressing, knowing exactly where she likes it. 

“ _Charming_ ,” she whimpers, a plea, and his thumb comes down hard right _there_ as his fingers slide inside her again, and she is vaguely aware of moaning his name in a strained voice as her brain wonderfully overloads and everything is good, good, good. 

Charming has caught her against his body, keeping her upright. She tilts her head slightly to her side, just resting her head against Charming's shoulder as her body starts connecting with her brain again. His fingers are still inside her too, brushing very lightly. 

“You good?” he murmurs after a while, kissing the back of her neck. 

“Mmm,” she says, then manages to sit up. They must make quite a sight, she images, neither of them undressed, but him with his hand inside her underwear, and both of them flushed and with swollen lips. 

He smiles at her, his eyes dark with desire. “Do you know how good you look when you come, Miss Blanchard?”

She blushes, biting her lip. “I... No.” 

“Your eyes close, your whole face is bright with pleasure and your lips part to let out a string of sexy noises,” he murmurs, and the tone of his voice is making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. “And the way you moan my name. That's sexiest of all.”

She swallows. “Yeah?”

“Definitely fuck yeah,” he says. “I want to hear you moan my name like that again.”

She doesn't trust her voice, and just nods, watching him as he removes his fingers and instead uses his hand to pull her underwear off, tucking it into his pocket. He just looks at her for a moment – her in her best teacher clothes, her legs parted and underwear off, with her skirt pushed up – and groans adorably.

“Miss Blanchard,” he says, and she can't deny how... possessive he manages to make that sound. “May I please fuck you on your desk?”

“Please do,” she says, gasping as his hands move to her shirt, tearing at it until the buttons give. He kisses her as he pushes the shirt off her shoulders and down, dropping it down on the desk next to them. His fingers dance along her collarbone for a moment before hooking the straps of her bra, pulling them down and caressing her arms as he does. She sighs softly into the kiss, moving her own hands to unhook her bra, and she can feel him grin against her lips at that.

“Impatient, Miss Blanchard?” he teases, brushing her upper lip with his lower. She just groans, and hears him chuckle before his mouth is on hers again, kissing her deeply, and his hands palm her breasts. 

Her nipples are already hard, but the feeling of his palms sliding against them still makes it feel like they are hardening further, and when he catches one between his thumb and forefinger, she gasps into his mouth. He does the same to the other, brushing, teasing, knowing damn well what it does to her. 

It feels too long and not long enough before he steps back while she is breathing hard, watching him strip while trying to get enough air into her lungs quite a challenge, actually. His sweater first, followed by his tight jeans and underwear, and she can hear her own sharp intake of breath at the sight of his cock, already hard and raising into the air. 

He notices, of course. He even does a small turn for her, so she can get a look at his ass too, the bastard.

“Am I to your liking, Miss Blanchard?” he murmurs, and she bites her lip hard.

“Yes,” she says. “You look... _fucking_ good.”

His eyes widen at her cursing. She knows it turns him on, hearing her use words like that, and sure enough, one second later he steps up to her and kisses her hard, demanding, impatiently, moaning into it as her fingers brushes his cock. His hands roam her back, the feeling of his palms against her skin always so good it takes her a few seconds to even register he's adjusting her position slightly. 

“I'll give you fucking good,” he growls, using his knees to push her legs even further apart. She can feel his cock brushing against her as he grinds into her, and she digs her fingers into his shoulder. 

“Please...do....” she breathes, his lips nipping gently at hers as he pushes into her, a hard thrust that is so good, and yet not enough. 

“Deeper,” she gasps, and he makes a noise that is half groan, half moan, and all want. “Please, please, please...”

He thrusts again, and she whimpers at the feeling of his cock inching deeper and deeper inside her, until he's as deep as he can go, and yes, yes, _yes_. She clings to him as he repeats the motion, harder this time, but just as deep, digging her fingers deep into his skin, probably leaving marks. She can feel his chest brush against her breasts and nipples every time he moves and she arches, his hands steadying her against his thrusts, his mouth moving along her neck, and it is giving her fucking good, as promised.

Every hard, deep thrust seems to bring her closer and closer, until she's clinging on by her fingertips, metaphorically and literally. All she is aware of is him, around her, inside her, touching her, kissing her, fucking her, Charming, Charming, Charming... 

“ _Charming_ ,” she moans, her grip on him slipping as he thrusts again, so fucking hard and deep and making her come just as hard. He catches her, she is vaguely aware of, lowering her onto the desk as she breathes and breathes, her whole mind just bright, bright pleasure and sensations of him.

Distantly, as if it's not quite her body, she can feel him thrust into her a few more times, then collapsing on her, breathing just as hard as her. The weight of him on her is always strangely sexy to her, and she draws her hands slowly along his back, tracing the curves of his spin. After a few moments, she tilts her head slightly to kiss the marks from her fingers on his shoulder too, even licking them softly. 

“Sorry,” she murmurs bashfully.

“Don't be,” he murmurs, stroking her sides lovingly. “Like it when you mark me. I'm yours.”

“ _Mine_ ,” she says, hearing the satisfaction in her own voice. 

“Mmm,” he agrees, lifting himself off her and gazing down at her. “That was better than I could have dreamed.”

She smiles, accepting his hand and letting him help her sit up. She leans into him, the heat of his body wonderful against hers. “What else did you dream of doing with me, Mr. Nolan?”

“So many things,” he murmurs, kissing her neck. “You at your desk, me underneath, licking into you.”

She closes her eyes at that image. She knows the feeling of his mouth against her so well, and she can vividly imagine the scenario. 

“What else?” she manages to ask, biting her lip. 

“Sitting in the teacher's chair... on me,” he says, sucking lightly on her earlobe. “Fucking me just the way you want.”

She recognizes that one as another one of her fantasies, or rather Mary Margaret's, that she told him about, and hearing it spoken by him makes her breath catch. 

“Anything else?” she says, hearing how strained her own voice is. 

“Taking you home with me,” he says, his hand caressing her breast. “Making love to you slowly, so slowly until you come apart in my arms, breathless and flushed. And then...”

That one is his, she is pretty sure. He does like fast and hard with her too, but she knows he has a special fondness for slow, making love to her and making it last until it almost feels like worship, and fuck her, she really, really likes it when he does it to her.

“Then?” she prompts, breathlessly.

“Then falling asleep with you in my arms and walking up with you still there,” he says, and she opens her eyes to see him look at her lovingly. “And to spend the rest of my life loving – and fucking you, Miss Blanchard, my beloved Snow White.” 

“Please do,” she says, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Please do... which one?” he asks, kissing her tenderly, cradling her head in his hand.

“All of them,” she says, feeling him lift her up as he kisses her happily and greedily, and with a promise she is going to get really, really fucked again. Just like she wants, just like he wants, like they always want together. 

They do end up doing all of them, and even one of them twice. All in all, Snow considers, Mary Margaret Blanchard has a pretty fucking good teachers' night.


	4. In Which Snow and Charming Play Bandit and Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of consentual bondage in this chapter.

II

**Chapter Four: In Which Snow and Charming Play Bandit and Prince**

II

“You're mine,” Snow says, and her voice is wickedly triumphant and possessive at the same time in a way that is so sexy it should practically be outlawed, as far as Charming is considered. “You're mine now, Prince Charming.”

“It appears so,” he agrees. He doesn't have much choice, after all. He's definitely hers tonight, with both hands tied to the headboard and a blindfold around his eyes, as agreed. Prince Charming caught by the bandit Snow White, a scenario he's been looking forward to since they first discussed it. 

“Mmm,” Snow hums. He can hear her moving around, but not see her, and it is making him itch for her already. As she well knows, he has no doubt. “Prince Charming, caught by a simple bandit while trying to catch her.”

“Nothing simple about you,” he shoots back. “I know of you, Snow White.”

“I know of you too, Prince Charming,” she replies, and he groans as he feels her straddle him and her hands run up his chest. “Why did you come after me?”

“You stole from me,” he points out, trying to look indignant. If he manages or not, he has no idea, since he can't see her expression. 

“I am sorry about that,” she says sincerely. “I thought your carriage belonged to the Queen.”

“A bandit who only wishes to steal from the Evil Queen,” he says, and he can feel her breath across his lips as she leans closer to him. “Yet you stole something else when you took my ring, my bandit.”

“What?” she breathes.

“My attention,” he breathes, and lunges forward as far as his restraints will allow him, catching her lips in a kiss. She makes a slightly startled noise, and he's allowed a few glorious seconds of kissing her deeply before she puts her hands firmly on his shoulders and pulls away. 

He can hear her swallow for a moment, probably to steady her voice, and he feels a moment of satisfaction at that. “I stole your attention?”

“Mmm,” he says. “You're all I can think about since you knocked me out with a rock.”

He can imagine her smirk well enough at that, the way her lips curve, and it makes him want to kiss her again, of course.

“Is that so?” she asks, and he nods. “What have you been thinking about, about me?”

“I've been thinking about kissing you,” he admits. “About kissing you until your lips feel swollen against mine, until you're moaning my name into my mouth, until you're thoroughly and breathlessly kissed out of your mind, my bandit.”

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice thick with desire. “What else?”

“About your skin,” he goes on. “How it looks, how it feel against my hands and my mouth. About touching and kissing every inch of your skin until all you can think about is how good it feels, and desperately want more.”

“What else?” she demands, her hands moving up his neck, caressing. 

“About fucking you,” he says crudely, and he can hear the slight catch in her breathing. “About thoroughly fucking you, slowly at first, hearing you whimper my name at every thrust, each deeper and harder until you come really fucking hard, my bandit.”

Snow swallows, and then leans forward to whisper into his ear. “I've been thinking too.”

“Oh?” he breathes, and she bites his earlobe lightly in a way that makes him groan. “About...?”

“You,” she says hotly. “About... a lot of things.”

“Like?” he prompts.

“No,” she murmurs softly. “You see, Prince Charming, I prefer actions over words. I'm afraid I will have to show you what I've been thinking about.”

He swallows. “By all means.”

“I've been thinking about kissing you too,” she admits shyly, brushing her lips against his. “About... how your lips feel...”

She draws her thumb across his lower lip, then gently pushes her into his mouth. He takes the opportunity to suck on it, hearing her breath quicken. 

“About how your mouth feels,” she goes on, moving her hands to cradle his head and then kissing him. He parts his lips willingly, letting her kiss him as deeply as she wants, her tongue drawing small moans from him every time it brushes his. It's a good kiss. No, an excellent kiss, the sort of kiss that would let a bandit steal a prince's heart and sanity, if she hadn't already done exactly that.

His breath is ragged as she pulls back, and he can hear her take a few seconds to calm her own breathing as best she can. 

“Anything else you've been thinking about?” he manages to ask after a few seconds.

“Mmm,” she murmurs, pressing a hard kiss against his neck. “I've been thinking about... your neck. About... this.”

He groans as she presses her mouth against a spot on his neck, sucking lightly before moving on, a trail of open-mouthed kisses along his neck until she reaches his shoulder. She pauses there, taking her time, her hands moving to his chest. 

He realizes why when he can hear the tearing of his shirt, making him grin slightly. That's his impatient bandit all right. Why bother taking the time to remove his shirt when she can simply tear it off? Not that he's been much kinder to some of her clothes. 

“I've been thinking about this,” she says, brushing her hands across his now exposed chest. “And...”

“And...?” he encourages, trying to keep his voice steady as her palms slide across his skin, again and again. 

“And...” she says, removing her hands. He has the time to feel disappointed at the loss of her touch before hearing the rustle of clothes. Is she...? She is, he realizes, she is damn well stripping and he can't even watch. 

“ _Snow_ ,” he whines. “That's unfair.”

“Shh,” she says, a finger to his lips. “I've been thinking about.... this.”

He growls as he realizes what she's been thinking about is how her breasts feel against his chest, and he can feel her nipples harden as she moves slightly up and down. Her wonderful, perfect breasts that he's seen and touched so many times, and yet is still desperately itching to cup with his hands right now. Except of course he can't, because his bandit has him tied up and is apparently determined to make the most of it.

“ _Snow_ ,” he whines again.

“Later,” she promises, brushing the lightest of kisses against his lips. “You see, I've also been thinking about... your cock.”

His mind goes almost blank for a moment at the sound of that word on her lips, and the very clear implication. Oh, fuck him. Oh, so very fuck him, oh please. 

Snow takes the opportunity of his silence to move off his lap. He can hear her move, and feel her hands as she yanks at his pants. It doesn't take her long to remove them, and his underwear even less. 

“Snow,” he says, not sure if it's a plea or a question. Whatever it is, it turns into a groan as her hands stroke his inner thighs, before closing gently around his cock. “Snow... _Fuck_.”

“Later,” she promises again, and he can hear the delight in her voice and imagine her smile. “I've been thinking about... stroking you.”

She does, and he can feel his cock harden against her hands in response. He can well imagine how erotic she looks right know, kneeling by him, his cock in her hands and her lips curved in that wicked smile of hers. He can well imagine all right, since he has seen that particular sight before, though usually not while tied up. He'd still like to see it again, damn her.

Her one hand continues to slide up and down his cock while the other holds him still, her palm so smooth and soft against him it's good enough to be almost painful. He can hear the noises he's making but can't quite control them, much like he can't control anything else. This is Snow in control, and fuck him, he's equally parts turned on by it and frustrated by it. He can understand very well why Snow quite enjoys it whenever they play sheriff Charming and his bandit.

“Yes,” Snow murmurs, sounding very pleased with herself. “I've been thinking about how this would feel, getting you hard in my hands. So hard, Charming. I wonder if I could get you even harder if I...”

Even though she trails off, he knows very well what that 'if' is. He still makes an utterly undignified noise as she kisses the tip of his cock and then takes him in her mouth. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, and fuck him, because the feeling of her mouth, warm and wet, is so good there are no other words he can think of. 

She definitely gets him harder, that's for sure. He feels unbearably hard as she alternates between licking him teasingly and drawing him into her mouth, sometimes as deep as she can manage to get him and always earning moans. He can't think, can't even watch, can only feel her mouth and his cock, losing himself to how it feels. He strains helplessly against his restraints, digs his fingers into his palms, and still all he can feel is the pleasure, sharp and bright. 

When she pulls away with one last, soft kiss to the tip of his cock, he's as hard as he can imagine getting without coming, and he suspects Snow knows. She's certainly spent many entertaining evenings establishing what it takes to make him come using her hands and mouth (as he has with her), and she appears to be using that knowledge now.

“Mmm,” she says, sounding breathless. “That leaves one last thing I've been thinking about...”

“Please tell me it's about fucking me,” he says, his voice hoarse. She chuckles, and he can hear her shift slightly, probably removing her own underwear. He's going to have to get even with her for this stripping and not letting him watch thing at some point, he decides. 

“It's about fucking you,” she admits, and he sighs happily. “About... how you'd feel inside me if I...”

He can feel her hands on him, adjusting him, and then she lowers herself on him agonizingly slowly, inch by inch. She's wet, apparently quite turned on by all she's been doing to him, and as always, her enjoyment of something manages to turn him on more too. He groans her name softly, while she whimpers his as she slides down that last inch and his cock is buried all the way inside her. 

They both pant slightly, and she moves to kiss him, clenching her inner muscles around him as she does. It makes him growl her name into the kiss, a sound she happily swallows before she begins moving, mostly rocking back and forth on him, keeping him deep inside her all the while. He desperately wants to touch her, to put one hand on her ass and feel her move while letting the other stroke her breasts, but he has to admit that he is helplessly turned on by it all, by being fucked by his bandit while tied up and blindfolded and kissed quite thoroughly.

Her can feel and hear her little sharp moans of pleasure as she rocks herself on him, apparently having found an angle that gives her just the right friction. The feeling of being so wonderfully sheathed in her, along with her buttocks pressing hard against his thighs, her breasts brushing against his chest every time she moves and all her noises, is all good, fucking good, and it's becoming increasingly hard to hold on. He has to fight the urge to just let go at every move she makes, but he is nothing if not stubborn.

Snow is getting close too, he can tell from the way her sounds into the kiss are becoming a touch desperate and her movements more frantic. She is close, so close, biting his lower lip slightly.

“Snow,” he pants, pulling away from the kiss slightly. “Please, just... let me watch you come. Please, please, let me see that.”

“You've been thinking about that?” she manages to say, pressing against him and rolling her hips slightly. 

“Yes,” he groans, and again as she repeats the motion. Fuck, he is so hard, and so deep inside her, and fuck, he wants, he needs.... “ _Please_ , Snow.”

She sighs, then kisses him softly before pulling his blindfold off. He has to blink a few times to adjust to the unfamiliar light, and then he can finally see. Snow, naked and flushed on his lap while biting her lip adorably and watching him through lowered eyelids. He can't even see his cock, so deep inside her, but he can see her hips move as she rocks on him, again and again. He can see her lips part, see how hard her nipples are, see how damn close she is, his second favorite thing to see in the world.

His actual favorite thing to see in the world follows a few seconds later when she whimpers his name breathlessly, and comes. He lets himself just watch and enjoy it for a few seconds, the bright, bright expression on her face as all she can feel is her orgasm, but that's about all he can manage before he simply can't hold on anymore, the sensation of her coming on his cock simply too good. 

It's all good, a fucking great orgasm after a good fucking by his fucking wonderful bandit, as far as he's concerned. He lets himself enjoy it properly, only slowly becoming aware of Snow's head on his shoulder, her breathing caressing his skin. 

“I like your thoughts,” he murmurs after a while, and she tilts her head slightly to smile at him. “A very thorough demonstration of what you've been thinking about. May I be allowed to follow your excellent example and demonstrate what I've been thinking of?”

She seems to consider it, biting her lip lightly before sitting up. “That would require me untying you.”

“Mmm,” he agrees. “You have caught me, my bandit. I give you my word that I will obey your every word until you decide to let me go. I am yours tonight, Snow White.”

She licks her lips. “You... are a man of your word, Prince Charming. I will untie you, but you will follow my every command.”

“I will,” he agrees. He watches as she moves to untie his left hand, then his right. As tempting as it is to touch her, he doesn't, instead lowering his hands to his sides and otherwise remaining still. “My bandit, may I have your permission to... press you into the mattress while kissing and touching you thoroughly?”

“Yes,” she says, and the second she's uttered her agreement, he pins her underneath him, pressing her hard into the mattress while kissing her hotly, deeply, and letting his hands roam her body. Her skin is warm against his palms, and he imagines he can feel the echoes of the heat of her orgasm, a thought that rather turns him on. 

She seems perfectly content to be kissed and touched thoroughly for a while, and he enjoys several minutes of kissing her, luring sounds from her while he strokes every inch of her skin he can reach. She sighs happily into the kiss as he lets one hand stroke her side, the other cupping a breast. 

“May I kiss your breasts?” he asks softly, and she nods regally before he lowers his head to her breasts. Her nipples are still hard, and he licks one while brushing his thumb against the other before starting his path of kisses across her breasts, intent on not missing an inch. If that makes him kiss several parts of her breasts several times just to make sure he hasn't missed anything, so be it. Snow certainly doesn't seem to be complaining, moaning in appreciation at his thoroughness, especially at the close attention he's paying to her nipples. Licking them, circling them with his thumbs, drawing them into his mouth, biting them lightly – it all earns noises he quite enjoys hearing her make.

He can feel her hands rest on his head, her fingers brushing through his hair. Every now and then he peeks up to see her watching him through lowered eyelids and slightly parted lips. She looks good, so good, but he has a lot of plans to make her look even better.

“May I kiss your legs?” he asks softly, and gets another regal nod as permission. Slowly, he starts a journey of open-mouthed kisses down her stomach, her hips, the inside of her thighs (avoiding going between her legs since he's pretty sure Snow would consider that cheating without specific permission granted), her knees, down to her ankles, along her foot and even underneath it, pausing to suck at a few of her toes before making his way up again. This time he takes the opportunity to linger at a few places he rather especially enjoys, like the underside of her knee, the inside of her though just before her legs meet, and her navel.

Snow has closed her eyes at his kisses, he notices as he kisses his way up her sides. She looks quite, quite relaxed and her lips are parted in pleasure. 

“My bandit?” he asks softly, and she opens her eyes focuses on his face. “There is another thing I've been thinking about.”

“What?” she asks, smiling faintly as if she has some ideas.

“How my fingers would feel inside you,” he says, and she licks her lips, then dips her own fingers between her legs. 

“Like this?” she asks, dipping a finger inside herself, and fuck him, he can only moan her name at that, especially when she moans slightly at the touch herself. He can't deny it's an amazingly erotic sight, his wife with her own hand between her legs, but it also makes him rather desperate to do the same himself. 

“Like that,” he groans after he's recovered somewhat.

“Mmm,” she says, using her other hand to catch his, moving it down between her legs and on top of her hand already there. “Why don't we find out together?”

“ _Snow_ ,” he says, and she smiles wickedly. Oh, Snow. His Snow. His wonderful, wonderful Snow. Gently, he slides a finger inside her to join hers. This is new, he has to admit, as he has used his fingers on her before or watched her use her fingers on herself, but they haven't done it together before, like this. He finds he rather like it though, feeling her finger brush his every time he moves his inside her. Together, they rub and stroke, slowly at first, but with increasing force and speed as she starts making breathless moans. He can feel her getting wetter too, and he's already thinking about fucking her the way he told her about earlier. 

“Stop,” she says after a while, and he pauses immediately. 

“Yes, my bandit?” he asks, adopting a slightly subservient tone, and she smirks at him. 

“You'd been thinking about... thoroughly fucking me, Prince Charming?” she questions, and he nods. “You're in no state to do so... _yet_.”

At the 'yet', he feels her hands close around his cock, which sure, isn't quite hard yet, but doing a fine job of getting there, as far as he's concerned. Still, he's not going to complain, especially when she uses the same hand she used to touch herself to know stroke him slowly, watching his face as she does. 

Whatever she sees, makes her smile and then bite her lip. He can imagine his expression is about as undignified as the noises he's making, but honestly, he doesn't care. Fuck dignity if he can fuck Snow, quite honestly. And at least this time he can watch, watch her hand slide up and down his cock, her thumb brushing the head every time she reaches it. 

It doesn't take very long before he's hard and straining into her hand, of course, given how turned on he was to begin with.

“I... I think I am in a state to thoroughly fuck you now,” he points out, and Snow tilts her head. “Please, my bandit, I... I would very much appreciate it if I could fuck you now, thank you.”

“You have a way with words, Prince Charming,” she replies, smirking again. “Since you asked so _charmingly_... please do fuck your bandit thoroughly.”

“As you wish,” he murmurs, dipping his head down to kiss her first, a quick peck while he puts his hands on her hips and adjusts her position. He can feel her hands slide across his back before settling on his ass, grabbing lightly as if to encourage him to get to the fucking. Always impatient, his Snow, and he grins slightly at it before pushing into her in one hard, slick stroke, though not as deep as possible. Not yet, no. She arches into it, gasping his name, then again as he makes another slow thrust, this one slightly harder and deeper. He intends to do this just as he told her, after all. Slowly at first, each harder and deeper. A thorough fucking, not a fast one, no. As much fun as fast can be, his bandit did ask for thorough. 

Snow is Snow, as always, and can't quite fight her urge to be impatient. She meets every thrust eagerly, always trying to draw him deeper in. As he deepens his thrusts, her moans soon turn to whimpers of his name, one of his favorite noises of all the lovely noises Snow makes during sex. There is just something about the need and want in her voice when she makes that whimper, the overwhelming need and want for him, that not only is equal to his need and want for her and thus feels wonderfully equal, but also satisfies the part of him that is rather possessive. This is _his_ Snow, his bandit, wanting and needing him, and he loves hearing it. 

Even if Snow is impatient, he manages to increase the pace and depth of his thrusts almost as slowly as he wants, and somehow, each manages to feel better than the previous. Each thrust is a pulse of pleasure, and he can tell Snow feels it too not only from her whimpers, but the way her hips move against his hands. 

“ _Charming_ ,” she whimpers, pressing her forehead against his, her breasts straining into the air as she arches into another thrust, and another, and another, each slightly deeper. When he finally pushes inside her as deeply as he can, and then again, harder, it's so fucking good on top of all the very fucking good already, that he has to bite his own lip hard not to just come then and there. 

Snow too, is biting her own lip, her breath ragged. He watches her face intently as he keeps thrusting, deep and hard, faster and faster, and fuck him, it's so good, so good, so fucking good he...

Snow makes half a whimper, an attempt at his name as he thrusts again, and he feels her come just as hard as he promised her a second before he comes too, and he's pretty certain it's as hard as her. His body shakes, his mind takes a holiday and pleasure, bright and hot, floods all of him. 

He is vaguely aware of collapsing on top of Snow, and for quite a while, all he can feel is the echoes of his orgasm and the warmth of her skin. She doesn't seem to mind the weight of him, drawing her hands slowly across his back as she too, regains her senses. 

“Charming?” she murmurs after a while, her voice wonderfully hoarse from whimpering his name. He rather enjoys that, but also makes a note to get her some water as soon as he trusts his legs to carry him. 

“Yes, my bandit?” he replies, kissing her shoulder. 

“Very... thorough fucking,” she compliments, and he grins slightly. 

“I am a prince of my word,” he says, and he can see her smile at that. Gently, he lifts his head enough to kiss her lips. “And I gave my word that I will obey your every word until you let me go. You asked me to... please thoroughly fuck you, so I did.”

“I haven't let you go yet,” she points out after a few moments.

“You haven't,” he agrees. “It appears you didn't just steal my ring or my attention, my bandit. You caught Prince Charming. All of him. All of me. I'm yours – until you let me go.”

“And if I never do?” she comments, lifting her hand to his cheek.

“Then I guess I am your Prince Charming forever, my bandit,” he says, kissing her again. “Is that what you want? Prince Charming, thoroughly yours, thoroughly... being fucked by you and fucking you, forever?”

“Yes,” she says possessively, running her hand across his cheek. 

“As you wish,” he murmurs, and kisses her again. He is a prince of his word, after all.


	5. Chapter Five: In Which Snow and Charming Play In the Dark

II

Chapter Five: In Which Snow and Charming Play In the Dark

II

In retrospect, biting her lip had been a bad idea. A Very Bad Idea, in fact, with a husband so intent on her that of course he'd notice. Of course he'd ask why. Of course he'd get her to confess she was holding back a soft moan (brought on by his fingers caressing her ear). Of course he'd take issue with that, insisting that all her noises are the sexiest thing ever and that holding them back is practically illegal. 

Her second mistake was probably arguing with that. Yeah. Definitely. Of course he'd take that as a challenge. He is Charming, after all. Her true love, who loves her and desires her in equal measure, and has that slight strand of arrogance in him that she loves just as much as every other part of him.

Even if that strand of arrogance is why her lip-biting has caused her to be in her current predicament: utterly naked in bed while her husband is unfairly _not_ , hands pinned above her head by Charming's firm grip, all the lights in their apartment turned off (Charming's doing, of course, to better focus on the true nature of his mission, as he put it) and hopelessly, frustratingly turned on. 

Fuck.

“Love you,” he says, his tongue brushing her earlobe in a way that makes her toes curl. “Love you so much.”

“I know,” she manages to say, pressing against him. That makes him chuckle softly. “Charming...”

“So impatient,” he says fondly. “My impatient bandit who married a very, very patient shepherd. Snow... I want to be patient tonight. Do you want me to be?”

She swallows. She knows he will never, ever do something she doesn't truly want, and it would be so very easy for her to say no right now – but she doesn't want to. Damn him, she doesn't want to. 

“Yes,” she says, and she can feel his lips curl into a smile against her skin. He presses a soft, lingering kiss just below her ear, licking lightly and practically humming. 

“Charming,” she says. “What does... you being patient entail?”

His voice is husky next to her ear, his breath hot on her skin. "Just you and me in the dark, Snow. Just you and me... And all the noises I'll lure out of you. All the noises I love. I won't stop until I've heard them all." 

Fuck, she thinks, and knows she will be. So gloriously, wonderfully, utterly fucked. 

She swallows, then gasps as his teeth graze her earlobe. 

“Mmm,” he murmurs. “A good start.”

She would glare at him, but in the dark, he probably wouldn't be able to tell. She can hear him chuckle though, so perhaps he knows she is mentally glaring at him. 

“Just you and me,” he goes on, pressing a few quick kisses against her collarbone. “And my hands, touching you just the way I know you love it.”

She swallows, and then again as his thumb strokes her wrist softly, a promise of just how well he knows how to touch her.

“And my tongue,” he says, his dropping lower. “Licking into you until you whimper my name. I _love_ how you whimper my name.”

She wants to whimper already, quite frankly. “Charming...”

“Snow,” he says, lifting his head to kiss her greedily, licking his way into her mouth until she is moaning into his mouth. “ _Snow_.”

She groans as he breaks the kiss, and she doesn't need light to know he is smiling.

“Charming,” she says breathlessly. “I want... I want all that, I do... but I also want...”

“I know,” he says, brushing his nose against hers. “I'll fuck you too. I promise. All the ways you want me to.”

She licks her lips. She already knows how she'll want it at first, and she suspects Charming damn well knows too. He knows her desires so well, and takes great pride in it too. In fact, she is pretty sure he is aiming for a Ph.D in pleasuring and fucking your true love to the highest degree. (And as far as she's concerned, he is a straight A+ student.)

“Yes,” she says breathlessly, and he kisses her again, caressing her lips almost tenderly. 

“I love you,” he says against her lips, and she sighs happily. He shifts slightly, and she can hear him fumble with the drawer of their nightstand. “Now, my bandit, I'm afraid I was quite serious when I told you holding back a moan is practically illegal.”

“By what law?” she protests, managing to keep her voice somewhat serious. She has a pretty good idea of what is coming, and feels a slight heat rise to her cheeks. 

“By mine,” he says huskily. “I am the sheriff, after all.”

He kisses her as she feels the cold steel of handcuffs snapping softly around her wrists, locking her to the headboard. His hands stay by hers for a moment longer, caressing gently before moving downwards, stroking the sides of her arms. The touches are featherlight, making her moan into the kiss as he travels downwards, his thumb tracing her collarbone.

He pauses for a moment, as if listening to her slightly uneven breathing. She gasps as his fingers tease the sides of her breast while his lips moving along her jaw, the combined sensations making her skin tingle. 

“Charming,” she breathes. She wants, she wants, she...

He brushes his thumb across her nipple at the same time as lowering his head to her neck and suckling lightly there, and she lets out a moan that is also a gasp. She keeps on moaning softly as his thumb circles her nipple again and again, and he bites lightly into her skin before licking it all better. 

“Mmm,” he says into her skin, sounding pleased. “Good, Snow. You sound so fucking good, but I think...”

She exhales as his mouth moves downwards, making a trail of open-mouthed kisses along her shoulder and then chest, pausing just above her right breast. 

“I think you can sound fucking great,” he says, and catches her right nipple between his teeth.

She whimpers. Softly at first, barely audible, but she knows he can tell, because he hums at the back of his throat, then licks her nipple to lure several moans from her as his hand continues to caress her other breast. Handcuffed as she is, she can only give in to it, let herself simply feel the pleasure of his touch. 

In the dark, she feels very conscious of the noises she's making, every breathless whimper and moan, every catch of breath, every gasp, every stuttering inhale. She can't see, only hear and feel as Charming continues, making her nipples harden and her breasts feel flush with heat, much like her cheeks. 

He shifts his mouth to her other breast, cupping her left breasts to caress it gently, circling her nipple with his thumb while his tongue circles the other. She can hear herself breathing hard, her exhales mixed with gasps, her inhales mixed with moans.

“Fucking great,” he murmurs, sounding quite, quite happy with himself. “But I know you can sound better, Snow. I know you can sound fucking wonderful.”

She bites her lip, then whimpers in protest as he lifts himself off her. She can hear him chuckle at that, before she hears the rustle of clothes and realizes he's finally undressing. Moments later, she sighs happily as she feels his naked skin against hers as he lowers himself next to her on the bed. He's hard, she can tell, feeling his cock brush her stomach as he moves, and she feels something akin to an ache between her legs at that.

He kisses her softly, caressing her parted lips with his own. She sighs into it, her upper body still warm and flush from his hands and mouth. She can feel his hands move down her side, caressing softly before slipping down to light grasp her buttock, and bites down lightly on his lower lip in response. 

He moans softly into the kiss, kissing her thoroughly while his fingers play lightly across her buttocks and his skin is warm against hers, until her lips are swollen and her breathing is ragged. 

He breaks the kiss, instead pressing his forehead against hers as he shifts his hand and brushes two fingers between her legs. She whimpers at that, and he almost growls, feeling her wet and warm against him.

“Snow,” he says hoarsely. 

She has no time – or breath – to answer before he slides a finger inside her, and she makes a sound she has no idea how to properly categorize, a sort of husky whimpering inhale. Charming seems pleased to hear it though, sighing happily as if he's been waiting for it. Then he proceeds to lure another from her, and another, his thumb making slow, hard circles while his finger makes slow circles inside her. 

“My bandit,” he murmurs affectionately, and just a touch possessively, lifting his head to press a few kisses against her wrists, checking that she's still firmly cuffed to the headboard at the same time. She lifts her head to kiss his throat as he does, feeling his pulse against her lips.

“My sheriff,” she counters, and he hums, pecking her lips quickly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he says, and she makes a soft hiss as he slides another finger inside her, agonizingly slowly. She doesn't need to see in the dark to feel his intent attention on her, taking in every sound that she makes. She hisses again, as he slides his fingers in and out, mimicking what she damn well wants his cock to be doing very soon, thank you and fuck you. 

“Charming,” she pleads, not quite able to find the words for what she's asking for, but trusting him to know. She trusts him more than anyone, more than herself. She trusts him with her heart (literally) and with her body, with everything that is her. 

He makes a soft 'mmm' in recognition, and she feels him move, pressing kisses down her body as he goes, pausing to trace her navel with his tongue before kissing the insides of her thighs, hotly and wetly. She can feel herself clench slightly around his fingers, wanting, wanting, wanting...

He presses a hard kiss between her legs, making her groan before he starts licking into her, making her pant hoarse moans and whimper his name whenever his tongue flicks just there, his fingers rubbing softly all the while. He knows just how to do this, of course, having had a lot of time to perfect just how to give his wife fucking good oral. He knows all her particularly sensitive spots, knows how to tease with light licks just long enough that it makes the pleasure of his tongue lingering all the greater, knows when biting lightly brings a sharp jolt of heat, and when his tongue curling inside her makes the heat pool. 

He is relentless in his determination of making it as good as possible, and she soon loses track of all the sounds she's making, but she is pretty sure Charming is making note of each and every one, all the variations and combinations of pants, moans, hisses, whimpers that his fingers and mouth are responsible for. She's pretty sure she couldn't hold them back right now even if she wanted to, unable to do anything at all, handcuffed and helplessly lost to pleasure, to Charming.

“Wonderful. So fucking wonderful, Snow,” she can hear him say, his voice ragged. 

She has no breath to argue his assessment of her noises, so she simply half whimpers, half growls, desperate and needing. She is close, so close, every nerve in her body a wound bowstring ready to give.

“Snow,” he says, his voice dark and hot. “I know you're close. Tell me how you want me to fuck you, my darling, because I'm going to start the moment you come.”

She can barely even focus on his words, and it takes a moment before she can even understand what he just said, as if all the pleasure buzzing in her mind has made every other process delayed.

“I...” she whimpers.

“I promised to fuck you,” he reminds her, his voice close to a growl, and she knows he is hanging on to self-control by a slim, slim thread. “However you wanted. Tell me, Snow. Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

Oh, she knows how she wants, and she knows Charming knows it too. He just wants her to voice it, because she suspects he enjoys hearing his wife telling him how to fuck her just as much as he enjoys the sounds she makes during. 

“Deep,” she pleads, her voice trembling and strained. “I... Fuck. Deep. Hard. Fuck me... like that. Please.”

“I promise,” he says, and lowers his head between her thighs again. She nearly howls as his tongue licks into her, and his fingers curl against just the right spot, and again, and his tongue flicks and... 

She comes. Oh, she comes, practically screaming his name, her body shaking with the force of it, writhing and straining against the handcuffs. Her heartbeats seem to be thundering through her, like a pulse of pleasure that drowns everything else. 

Her orgasm has started slowly ebbing away when she feels Charming thrusting hard and deep into her, so very deep that she whimpers in pleasure from it. He's shifted her body slightly, and lifted her legs to his shoulders, she realizes, allowing him to thrust deep and hard inside her, just as she wanted and asked for.

Fuck, she thinks, the only thing she can manage to think, as the new pleasure of his cock, hard and straining, deep inside her, seems to make her orgasm refuse to die away completely. She can only feel pleasure, pulses of it shooting through her as he begins to thrust, slow yet hard, every stroke deep and making her moan and whimper helplessly, every stroke seeming to add to the pulse of pleasure already coursing through her. 

He is making quite a few noises himself, she vaguely registers. Deep, low moans every time he pushes into her as far as he can manage, hisses at the back of his throat every time her body shakes against his, growls of her name when her muscles clenches around him instinctively, trying to draw him deeper.

He is still being patient, too, with slow, hard, deep thrusts, egging on her pleasure without losing himself to his. Somehow, every thrust manages to feel deeper, even though she is pretty sure it's not actually possible. All she knows is that it's good, great, wonderful, fucking wonderful and the pleasure of it is... Everything. 

She comes again. Or rather, it feels like the first never stopped and now simply tops itself again, and she manages to whimper half of his name before her head falls back and she is completely, utterly, wonderfully lost. 

Even then, Charming waits, and she suspects he is listening to all the noises she's probably making as her senses return to her. Finally, he shifts her legs down to his sides before making a few quick thrusts into her, and then makes a strangled cry above her. She can feel his hips jerking before his head collapses on her shoulder, and she can feel his hard, ragged breathing against her skin.

They just lie there for a good many minutes, both breathless and fucked, just enjoying the aftermath. After a while, he kisses her shoulder leisurely, but when he moves to pull out, she locks her legs behind him and doesn't let him.

“Snow?” he asks softly. 

“Don't,” she tells him. “You promised to... fuck me all the ways I wanted. That was just one.”

She can hear him swallow. “What else did you have in mind?”

“Let me kiss me,” she murmurs, and he does, dipping his head to let her brush her lips against his. “Let me touch you, caress you, kiss you and listen to all the sounds you make. And when you're hard inside me again...”

She can feel a light twitch of his cock at that, and smirks at it. 

“When you're hard inside me and desperate to have me again,” she continues, and he growls, “I want you to turn me over, handcuff me to the headboard again and fuck me hard and fast, so hard and fast I can hear it.”

She can hear him swallow, then make a barely audible whimper, as if he is picturing it. Good. 

“Yes, Snow,” he says obediently, lifting his hands to the headboard. A few moments later, she is uncuffed, and she lifts her hands to caress his soft chest while he flips them around, allowing her to straddle him and touch and kiss as she desires. “I'm... all yours to touch and kiss.”

She hums at the back of her throat, lowering her head to kiss his nipples. He groans at that, then sighs happily as she draws her hands across his abdomen. She slides her hands across his skin, enjoyingh the smoothness and warmth of it, and the way he breathes as she does. She makes a slow path of kisses up towards his neck, earning appreciative moans that occasionally turns to hisses if she uses her teeth. 

When she bites into his shoulder, he makes a sound at the back of his throat, growing in strength as she sucks and licks. It becomes a growling moan of her name when she brushes her breasts against him, making sure he feels how hard her nipples still are, how flushed her skin is thanks to him. 

“You sound fucking good,” she murmurs, and he groans at her repeating his line from earlier. “But I think...”

“ _Fuck_ ,” he moans as she clenches her muscles around him and rocks on him at the same time, and oh yes, his cock is definitely growing harder inside her. “ _Snow_.”

She rocks on him again, while kissing her way up his neck, and he moans breathlessly, making a stuttering exhale as she draws her tongue along the shell of his ear. Perhaps she could learn to accept that he finds all the noises she makes wonderful, she muses, now that she is focusing so much on his and realizing just how sexy they are. The moans he makes when she draws her teeth across his lower lip, for instance. Or the guttural sounds he makes into a kiss when her tongue brushes his and she kisses him deeply, hotly and just a touch possessively. 

She runs her fingers through his hair, her nails scraping against his scalp before setting at the back of his throat, gently playing with the short hairs there. He sighs at that, then makes an utterly delicious groan as she rocks on him again, and again, on and on while kissing him increasingly hoarse and breathless. 

She can feel him grow harder and harder inside her, a wonderfully thrilling feeling that is making her own body respond too, as if waking up again. 

“Snow,” he says hotly into the kiss, catching her wrists in his hand. She pouts into the kiss, getting a stern peck in response. 

“You said when I was desperate to have you again,” he murmurs, his voice making her cheeks flush from the desire in them. “I'm afraid, my bandit, that I am now desperate.”

She hums in triumph, before climbing off him and making them both growl at the loss of contact. As he sits up too, she can see his cock, still slick from being inside her, and now hard again, and licks her lips at that. 

“Face the headboard,” he says, his voice low and commanding. Obediently, she turns and puts her hands on the headboard, lifting herself up on her knees. She can feel his hands stroking her ass, making her moan, before tracing the curve in her back lovingly. He shifts a few pillows underneath her to rest on if she wants, and then handcuffs her to the headboard again with a satisfied, possessive growl. 

“Now, my bandit,” he says hotly, moving behind her. “I'm going to fuck you so hard and fast you can hear it. Just like you want me.”

“Yes,” she says, feeling his hands settle on her hips. “I... want you like that. Now. Please.”

She can hear his skin slap against her buttocks when he thrusts into her, hard and fast, and she lets go of the breath she's been holding. Yes. Oh yes, and she finds herself panting in sync with his fast thrusts, and she is probably panting just as hard as he's fucking her too. Every thrust feels wonderful, the angle making each stroke slick, and she can hear skin against skin at each and every one. She can feel herself being wonderfully fucked, but hear it too, and it's turning Charming on too, she can tell from the low, guttural noises he's making. 

She clings on to the headboard, feeling the bed rock lightly with each thrust. It's a good thing they have the house all to themselves tonight, she reflects, as they've been loud in more than one way. No mistaking these sounds, his possessive growls, her demanding moans, his skin against hers, the groans of the bed. Oh no. This is very much A Fucking, with the noises to go with. 

She's lost track of time when Charming picks up the pace just slightly, thrusting into her with a moan-y hiss of her name and comes, twitching inside her as he does – and that is enough to drag her along too, a thunder of pleasure drumming through her body loud enough that she can't hear her own cry of Charming's name even though she feels it on her lips.

She collapses onto the pillows, Charming on top of her. Vaguely, she can feel him kiss her shoulder and the back of her neck, and lets herself just enjoy the sensation of him pressed against her back, as hot and flushed as she feels too. 

“Mmm,” he says against her ear after a while. “That was....”

“All the sounds you were hoping for?” she teases, tilting her neck as he kisses it.

“All of them,” he replies, sounding satisfied. “I think there was even a new one.”

“You think?” she teases. 

“Mmm,” he hums against her skin. “There is only one way to be sure. You'll have to make it for me again.”

She feels a flutter in her stomach at that, leaning back against him as he caresses her back. “Oh, I will have to, will I?”

“Yes,” he says confidently, shifting slightly. Moments later, she feels herself getting uncuffed from the headboard again. “I'm afraid your cooperation is required by law, my bandit.”

“Let me guess,” she says, turning around and feeling his arms go around her, pulling her into his embrace. He kisses her wrists lovingly, but also a touch possessively, as he always does when he's used his cuffs on her. (And, she has to admit, she tends to do the same when she's used them on him.) “Required by your law?”

“Yes,” he says cheekily. “I am the sheriff, after all.”

“A sheriff with laws that govern the noises his wife makes during sex,” she teases, kissing the underside of his jaw. She feels... quite, quite wonderfully fucked, but that doesn't mean she won't tease her husband. Especially if said teasing will mean more wonderfully fucked in the future, which it usually does.

“Very important laws,” he argues. “Denying your husband the pleasure of such sexy noises is clearly a crime.”

“I assume it's an equal crime to deny your wife the same pleasure,” she observes, letting her fingers move across his chest. 

“Mmm,” he agrees lazily, not really listening, but she'll hold him to that. Oh, she will hold him to that, she is already certain. 

(She will hold him to that very much indeed, as it turns out, as two weeks later he'll find himself handcuffed to the headboard and moaning helplessly while receiving a blow job that will leave him wordless and a fucking that will leave him breathless – all for the crime of trying not to moan when groped by his wife in the hallway.)


	6. Chapter Six: In Which Snow and Charming Play Perfect Strangers

Chapter Six: In Which Snow and Charming Play Perfect Strangers

II

It's impossible not to notice Charming, Snow is pretty sure, but she still makes a pretty good go at pretending he's not the first thing she sees as she steps onto the dance floor. A pretty good go, but not a perfect one, and she can see Charming's slight grin. 

He makes a small growl as he gets a proper look at her – she's wearing tight, tight red dress that outlines every shape of her body and barely covers her thighs – but catches himself after a second. He keeps his eyes on her as he steps up to her, and she bites her lower lip slightly. 

“Hi,” he says cheekily. “I don't believe we've met. You're...?”

“A perfect stranger,” she replies, just as cheekily. “Maybe you'll earn knowing my name later.”

“Perfect stranger it is, then,” he agrees easily.

“Dance with me?” she asks after a moment, holding out a hand. 

“As you wish,” he says, taking her hand in his and putting the other hand on her back and stepping closer, as they begin to sway slowly to the music. As always, dancing with him feels perfect, like their bodies were made to fit together. 

“You come here often?” she murmurs, watching him smile at her.

“No,” he says simply, dipping her and very slowly bringing her back up again. “First time.”

“Me too,” she replies, watching his gaze move to her lips for a moment, as if he is thinking of kissing her. 

“I was lucky to find you here, then,” he comments, twirling her and then catching her against his chest. “A perfect stranger. Utterly, utterly perfect stranger, in fact.”

“Or I found you,” she points out. “A perfect Prince Charming.”

His eyes twinkle at her, and then she finds herself lifted and and swung around slowly. “A _perfect_ Prince Charming?”

“Mmm,” she says, closing her eyes for a moment as he practically slides her along his body to lower her onto her feet again. His breath definitely catches, she can hear, and it makes her smile faintly. “Perfect.”

He hums softly, his fingers moving to her arms to caress her skin there. “I guess we're both lucky then, to find each other so perfect.”

She nods softly, biting down on her lower lip before she leans forward, making sure he feels the entirety of her body pressed against his as she draws her fingers slowly across his skin at the back of his neck. His eyelids slide shut for a moment at the pleasure of it, and his lips part slightly.

Good. She'll have him desperate for her in no time. He never can resist her, really, but it's always fun to have him particularly unable to resist her. 

“Very lucky,” she says softly, leaning so close that he should be able to feel her breath on his lips. “We should do something about that, Charming.”

“We should,” he agrees, pressing his forehead against hers for a moment and she closes her eyes in delight. They continue the dance like that, foreheads touching and bodies pressed together, gently swaying with the music. 

When the music dies away, she opens her eyes in confusion as Charming steps away.

“Excuse me for a moment, my perfect stranger,” he says smoothly, kissing her hand, “but they're playing my song.”

She doesn't have time to voice her confusion as he steps away, just watching him as he walks off the dancing floor and onto... a stage?

Oh no, she has time to think. This is a karaoke bar. This is a karaoke bar, and she's utterly, utterly fucked. Because Charming, Charming can _sing_. 

Oh yeah, her husband always sounds _great_ , she thinks with a sense of doom as the first few tones of the song seem to make her body hum. No, not great. Better than. _Wonderful_ , in fact. He has the sort of singing voice that can make anyone pay attention, and can make his wife hot under the collar from the first tone.

And he _knows_ it. He knows it, the right bastard. She knows it too, from past experience, but she hadn't expected him to sing tonight. 

This wasn't the plan, she thinks indignantly. No. They were meant to have a lovely evening of playing perfect strangers meeting at a bar and just seeing where that went. A little roleplay, like they sometimes enjoy doing. She should have suspected he was up to something the moment he suggested they choose the new bar as the place to meet, but how was she to know this was a karaoke bar? 

Charming's voice seeming to brush across her skin and making her feel flushed as the song continues. Hot under the collar definitely happening, she knows, oh so hot and thus oh so bothered. He smirks as he notices her expression, a self-satisfied smirk she wishes she could kiss right off him (and maybe she will. _Later_ ), but continues his song, hitting every note perfectly. 

Fuck him, she thinks hotly, and oh how she wants to. He is looking right at her as his voice rises and holds and holds, and her breath actually catches, fuck him. She's only dimly aware of the applause as he finishes, keeping her gaze locked in his as he steps off the stage and walks the few steps over to her.

Oh, he definitely planned this. Planned to have them meet here, where he could sing to her, to make her so desperate to have him she would practically jump him.

“Sorry about that,” he says, not sounding sorry in the least. “I signed up to do one song earlier tonight. I hope you're not bothered?”

“I am,” she manages to say, and he tilts his head. “Bothered. Hot and bothered.”

“Oh,” he breathes, but she can see his lips turn upwards slightly, a smile he can't quite suppress. He wanted this, she knows. He enjoys her wanting him, just like she enjoys him wanting her. “I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?”

Without a word, she takes his hand in his, and walks off the dance floor. She can hear him breathe as he follows her, but he says nothing, nothing at all as she pulls him outside the club. Not a word as she practically drags him along the few blocks to the loft. It's dark and quiet, all theirs for the whole weekend.

Her fingers feel clumsy as she tries to unblock the door, and she wonders if she's actually hazy with desire. She certainly feels as if she can't think clearly, her mind buzzing with desire and want. 

Finally, she manages to turn the key, stumbling inside and closing the door behind them both. He is looking at her intently as she faces him, his chest rising and falling as he breathes unevenly. She puts her hands around his neck, feeling his hand slip down to her lower back and linger there, pressing her so close she can feel the heat of his body. 

He can feel the heat of hers too, she knows.

“Mmm,” he sings, and she glares at him. “Definitely hot and bothered.”

“Make it up to me,” she tells him, licking her lips.

“How?” he murmurs, his hands already roaming her body, tracing her hips and ass and following the arch of her back. 

“Fuck me,” she tells him, and his eyes darken. “Right here and right now – fuck me.”

“Fuck you?” he echoes, his voice husky. “As you wish.”

He kisses her at that, three light brushes of his lips against hers until she moans softly and he takes her parted lips as an opportunity to kiss her deeply. He even lifts her as his tongue seem to dance against hers, tasting her and making her breathless at the same time. She can feel the door pressing against her back, and locks her legs around his waist as he keeps kissing her greedily. 

Her dress, already short, seems to have crept up further, and she can feel the denim of his jeans against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She would much rather feel his skin, and she tears impatiently at his shirt. 

He chuckles into the kiss, and then hums in appreciation as she manages to get enough of his shirt unbuttoned to brush her fingernails across the top of his chest. Of course, that isn't enough, and she keeps working at his button, finally managing the last one with a low, satisfied growl into the kiss. 

He doesn't stop kissing her as he helps her pull his shirt fully off, exposing his skin to her greedy touch. She can feel his chest rise and fall under her fingers, and increasingly uneven as he keeps kissing her as if he would happily continue to do so for the rest of his life. 

Of course, she would happily keep kissing Charming for the rest of her life too, but that's rather a lot more she would also like to do to and with Charming for the rest of her life. 

He seems aware of her impatience, because his hands seem to have managed to find the zipper of her dress and have expertly unzipped it, allowing him to pull the dress off her shoulders and expose her strapless bra. 

He breaks the kiss for a moment to look, his gaze warm as he regards her. He hasn't seen her in this particular red lace bra before, she knows. She's been saving it for a special occasion – like this.

“Matching,” he remarks, voice uneven. Gently, he lowers her to her feet, letting her lean against the door for support. 

“Mmm,” she agrees, swallowing. “I thought red was a fitting color for someone looking to seduce a perfect stranger in a bar.”

“A good choice,” he admits, and she smiles. “But when it comes to seducing this perfect stranger, there is something even more effective than wearing red.”

“Oh?” she breathes, as she feels his fingers on her back, working to unhook her bra. She already knows the answer, but to hear him say it is still a thrill. It will always, always thrill her just how much he wants her, she suspects. 

“Wearing nothing,” he says, and her toes curl as he pulls her bra off and lowers his head to her right breast. Her nipples are already hard, and he licks one while drawing his thumb across the other. She arches into it, wanting more, wanting him, _wanting_.

She rests her hands on his head as he licks and sucks one breast, then the other, drawing gasps and moans from her all the while. Her skin feels increasingly flushed, the heat of it pleasure and an ache for more at the same time. 

Dimly, she feels the dress fall the rest of the way off her and onto the floor. It takes a few attempts to step out of it and kick it away, given she's wearing heels, but she manages in the end. Of course, Charming is still much too dressed. He still has pants on, and that won't do.

Boldly, she lowers her hands to the zipper of his pants. She can feel Charming smile at that, and a moment later he lifts his head to look at her. His gaze is dark with desire, but manages to be bright with mirth at the same time.

“A perfect stranger going after what she wants,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “A woman after my own heart.”

“What I want,” she says, pressing her palm against the bulge in his pants, “is you.”

“You'll have me,” he promises, punctuating each word with a kiss. He stands perfectly still as she works the zipper, then pulls his pants off and lets them pool at his feet. He's wearing bird-dotted boxers, she notices, and can't help the soft giggle at that. Charming. Oh, Charming, how she loves him. They're new and everything. She's not the only one who's bought new underwear for a special occasion, it seems.

“Perfect taste,” she tells him, but before he has time to answer, she strokes him through the cloth of the boxers and he lets out a slow, shuddering breath. He's already somewhat hard, she can tell, and when she dips her hand inside and strokes his flesh, he's practically straining into her hand.

He closes his eyes and bites down hard on his lower lip as she strokes him again, feeling how smooth he is against her palm. Smooth and warm, and hard yet soft at the same time. She loves the feel of his cock like this in her hand, as always finding it a pleasure in itself to give him pleasure. 

“Definitely hot and bothered,” she observes, as he balls his fists at her touch.

“Mmm,” he agrees, opening his eyes slightly to look at her through lowered eyelids. Before she has time to say anything else, he kisses her hotly, demanding, making her moan into the kiss. She can feel his hands find hers, lifting them above her head and keeping them trapped there while he keeps kissing her.

They're both breathing raggedly when he finally breaks the kiss, moving his mouth to her earlobe and gently sucking on it for a moment. “Turn around.”

It takes her a few seconds to make sense of the words, and her legs feel heavy as she turns to face the door. She rests her palms and her forehead against the door as she hears the rustle of clothes, and then she feels Charming sit down between her legs. 

Oh. 

Oh, she thinks again she feels Charming's mouth against the lace of her underwear, hot even through the cloth. Oh, and oh, as his hands move to the hem of her underwear and begins to peel it off agonizingly slowly, inch by inch. She has time to draw a sharp breath when he finally pulls it off her and lets it fall, and then he licks into her with a satisfied hum.

She isn't sure what sound she makes, but it seems to encourage Charming further, as licks into her again, curling his tongue. It's all she can to to focus on remaining standing, listening to her own breathless whimpers. 

This must be the very definition of hot and bothered, she thinks dimly; Charming's mouth on her making every sensation one of warmth and pleasure, so much pleasure. Her whole body seems flush with it, singing with it, as she feels Charming press one final hard kiss against her and then stand up. 

She arches against him instinctively as he presses himself against her, his cock hard against her buttocks while he kisses her shoulders and her back. She can't properly see him like this, but oh, how she can feel him.

“You're so perfect,” he whispers, breath hot against her ear as one of his hands settle on her hips. She has no breath to protest, and knows it would be pointless anyway. In his eyes, she is utterly, utterly perfect always and forever. He finds her perfect like this too, naked except for high heels, supporting herself against the door as she feels his cock slide teasingly between her legs and knows she's about to get utterly, utterly fucked. 

Even knowing it's coming, she still whimpers his name as he thrusts into her and kisses her neck at the same time. The friction of the thrust combined with the feeling of his cock inside her, smooth and warm, is definitely whimper-worthy, after all, as is the way his fingers dip down and begin rubbing against her.

“Charming,” she pleads, as he thrusts again and brushes two fingers against her at the same time, feeling her whole body shudder with pleasure from the combined sensation. It feels overwhelming, overwhelmingly good. “I can't... Too much... I... Too good... I can't... Oh _fuck_.”

“You can,” he whispers hotly by her ear. “You told me to fuck you. This is how I want to fuck you – right here and right now.”

“I....” she breathes, her voice breaking. But he is right. She does want this, wants it desperately. “Yes.”

She finds herself arching into his thrusts as he picks a slow, steady pace of deep thrusts coupled with slow circles by his fingers and light kisses against her neck, a wonderful torture of mounting pleasure that will become a surge, she knows. Every sensation seems like a new height of pleasure, and there seems to be no top, no end, building and building. 

Utterly, utterly fucked, she manages to thinking. Utterly, utterly wonderfully fucked with every thrust, every kiss, every touch of his fingers. 

“Still too good?” he asks, voice strained. 

“Better,” she manages to say, her head falling backwards as he stays still for a moment, buried deep inside her, just holding while she feels adrift. Her whole body feels tense, straining, filled, rising – and then he thrusts again while circling his thumb at the same time, and she is adrift and falling at the same time as everything is pleasure, bright and hot. 

Slowly, her senses start to return, and she is vaguely aware of being carried and lowered onto her bed. Charming, of course, kissing her face as he settles them both onto their sides, face to face. He even gently slips her high heels off, kissing her feet as he does. He looks focused, she notices, and realizes he's determined to deny his own pleasure for as long as possible to keep giving it to her. His cock is still hard, twitching slightly as she brushes her hand against it.

“Charming,” she says hoarsely. “Fuck me.”

“Soon,” he murmurs. “Want to make it perfect for you.”

“Already is,” she says, pressing her thumb against his lip. “Fuck me.”

He just looks at her for a moment, then groans as she presses herself against him as best she can. With a sigh, he seems to give in, and she watches his face turn bright with pleasure as he lifts her left leg and gently pushes into her again. She rests her leg on his hip as he inches deeper and deeper inside her, as far as he can go. He lingers like that, not moving, pressing his forehead against hers. 

He looks so very beautiful, she thinks, cheeks flushed and lips slightly parted. Her perfect Charming. As she clenches her muscles around him, he moans, and that is utterly perfect too. 

“Too good?” she teases.

“Better,” he groans, closing his eyes as she rotates her hips slightly. “I... Oh _fuck_.”

She caresses his face softly as he thrusts, hard and fast and slightly frantic, losing himself in the pleasure of it, of her, until he comes with a strangled cry. He looks so very lovely in the moment of it, and she kisses his face over and over until his breathing calms. 

He smiles at her, then kisses her gently. 

She falls asleep soon after, her head tucked underneath his hands stroking her back.

II

She wakes to singing. Charming, of course, singing the same song from last night, only this time he's in the kitchen, she realizes as she opens her eyes. He's making breakfast, and she simply watches him for a few moments. He's shirtless, clad only in gray pajamas pants, and she allows herself a few moments to ogle him and listen to him at the same time.

He's making pancakes, of course, and have set the table. There's even a bouquet of snow bells on the table, making her smile. Charming. Oh, Charming.

She finds a robe and slips it on, then pads into the kitchen. He looks up as she enters, giving her a soft smile. 

“Hello, perfect stranger,” he offers. “I hope you don't mind I spent the night.”

“Why did you?” she asks, stepping closer.

“Because I would like us to become more than perfect strangers,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She can only imagine that her hair is a right mess, but as always, he seems to find that perfect too. 

“What would you like us to become?” she asks, leaning against the kitchen counter as he looks down at her. 

“Lovers,” he says, his hands moving to her neck, caressing her skin gently. “In every meaning of the word.”

“I'd like that too,” she murmurs, and he kisses her softly. “Lovers.”

“Perfect lovers,” he adds after a moment, and she kisses him before he can say anything else. She puts her arms around him as he lifts her up, and she finds herself being lifted up on the kitchen counter. He places himself between her legs, letting her kiss him intently, while his hands slip inside her robe and caresses her skin.

“What about the pancakes?” she teases, as his hand cups her breasts. “They'll get cold.”

“Fuck the pancakes,” he mutters, voice husky. 

“Better plan – fuck Snow,” she offers, and he smiles.

“Snow. Perfect name,” he says, running this thumb across her cheek. “Also perfect plan. Fuck Snow.”

(Utterly perfect, in the end – on the kitchen counter and going for seconds on the kitchen table, two lovers going after what they both want.)


	7. Chapter Seven: In Which Snow and Charming Play Knight and Damsel in Distress

II

Chapter Seven: In Which Snow and Charming Play Knight and Damsel in Distress

II

Snow has never felt like a damsel in distress. She's experience distress, yes, and danger, but she never quite felt like a damsel. She's been a princess, a bandit, a bandit-princess, but a damsel? No. That was never quite her. 

But she can pretend it is. Oh yes. She can very much pretend. Dressed in an low-cut silk dress and tied to a beam above her, she is every inch a damsel in distress, looking to be rescued. (Of course, she could free herself if she actually had to, but instead, she is merely waiting.)

The door slams open, and her would be rescuer strides in, immediately taking her breath away. Charming has really dressed up for his part, tight leather pants, a gleaming chain mail chest piece and his sword held high. He looks every bit a dashing knight, and she feels a slight flutter in her stomach. 

She lets out a soft gasp, acting surprised, and he immediately steps up to her. 

“My lady,” he says, putting his free hand on her cheek. “Don't be afraid. I am here to rescue you.”

“Oh,” she breathes, watching him as he lifts his sword and effectively cuts the rope. It puts her slightly off balance, and she staggers against him, feeling his arms steady her. 

“I have you, my lady,” he murmurs softly. Before she can respond, he sweeps her into his arms and even if they are just acting and there is no real danger, she still closes her eyes in delight. Being in his arms always feels reassuring somehow, no matter what. 

He carries her out of the room while clutching his sword, and she lowers her head onto his shoulder, rather enjoying this part of it – though she has to admit the thought of the coming parts of this particular act adds to that enjoyment. Anticipation is also a pleasure, after all. 

Charming is still carrying her by the time they exit, and she blinks against the fading sunlight. He immediately whistles for his horse, and then helps her up on it before getting up in the saddle behind her. She throws a quick glance at the crumbling, abandoned old barracks they've used as scenery for this particular act, pretending to look anxious.

“Will they not follow us?” she asks.

“They will,” Charming says, pressing her closer. “But they will not catch us.”

With that, the horse rears off, and she leans back against his chest. He keeps one arm around her to press her close, and one hand on the reins of the horse. She can feel his thighs against hers, and his breath against the back of her neck. He feels close, so very close, and she lets herself enjoy that. He smells faintly of leather, and of Charming, and she can tell he is enjoying himself too from the hard bulge pressing against her ass. 

She isn't sure how long they ride for, but eventually Charming steers the horse in front of a small, slightly run-down farm with a small barn, and helps her off. 

“We will stay here tonight, my lady. I do not wish to risk navigating in the dark,” he says softly. “Tomorrow, I shall return you to your home.”

“Thank you,” she says, looking down. “I cannot thank you enough for coming to my rescue.”

“Your safe return is thanks enough,” he says gallantly, and she peeks up on him. 

“It seems I have not only been saved by a brave knight, but a charming one,” she quips, and he grins at her for a moment.

“Thank you, my lady,” he says, lifting her hand to kiss it. 

“Snow,” she insists. “Please call me Snow, my charming knight.”

“Lady Snow,” he says, looking intently at her for a moment. “Please, make yourself comfortable inside. I shall attend to the horse, then join you.”

She nods, accepting the saddlebag from him. He has packed food and water, she notices, and inside she finds that the small farmhouse is furnished, if slightly sparsely. There is a bed, with blankets, and a few chairs, and a table. No doubt Charming has prepared this in advance, and she smiles slightly.

When he enters a little time later, he has taken off the chain mail, she notices, and is now clad in a think white shirt and leather pants, and he looks so good she has to fight the desire to simply gaze at him. 

From the twinkle in his eyes, she can tell that he has noticed, and she bites her lip. 

“I am sorry that I cannot offer you accommodation fit for a lady such as you,” he says apologetically.

“Will we be safe here?” she asks, and he nods. “Then this is far better accommodation than I've had for a long time, my charming knight.”

He inclines his head, before pulling out a chair for her to sit on, and then taking a seat on the bed himself. 

“My family will reward you once I return home,” she says, and he shakes his head.

“I will not take a reward from them, Lady Snow. I did not do this for any reward,” he declares, and even if they are just playing, she is pretty sure that would be true regardless. That is her Charming after all.

“Then will you accept a reward from me?” she asks, and when he looks ready to protest, she holds up a hand. “Please. I wish to reward you.”

“I need no reward, Lady Snow,” he says, “but if you feel inclined to reward me, you may.”

“I do feel inclined,” she says, and he swallows at the tone in her voice. Quickly, she kneels by him, and he watches her through lowered eyelids as she slides her hand up his thigh. She can see him lick his lips lightly.

“Lady Snow...” he starts, but she shakes her head.

“No protests, my charming knight,” she says, shifting closer. “Enjoy my reward. Just enjoy.”

He nods, closing his eyes as she runs her palm over the bulge in his pants. It takes her a little bit of work to get him free, but she is rewarded with a shudder when there is no leather or cloth, simply her palm against his cock. He feels smooth and warm against her skin as she draws her fingers up and down, tracing the length of him. He grows harder as she does, his cock soon straining into the air as she continues her caresses. 

“You are truly a mighty knight,” she teases, brushing her thumb against his tip. He simply groans as she closes her hand around him and runs her hand up and down several times, and she can see him balling his fists. 

She can feel her own body respond to his increasing desire too, and she brushes her thighs against each other without even thinking. 

“What did you think about as we rode here?” she asks, and he blinks and tries to focus on her. “I felt you hard against me, Charming. What were you thinking about?”

He shudders as she strokes the full length of him, up and down. “I... I thought about you, Lady Snow. How you felt pressed against me. How it would feel to... forgive my language... fuck you as you sat there.”

She gives him a cheeky grin, then stands up. He watches as she steps out of her dress and then her underwear, his gaze hot,and she can still feel it on her even as she turns her back to him and sits down on him, his thighs pressing against hers and his cock hard against her back.

“As I sat like this?” she asks, her voice slightly hoarse to her own ears. 

“Yes,” he almost growls, his hands dipping between her legs. He growls again as he brushes a finger against her and find her already wet, already wanting. 

“I thought about it too,” she admits, almost shyly, as if she was a lady hesitant about voicing her own desires and not a wife that has no qualms expressing just how much she wants her husband. 

“Then let us find out,” Charming murmurs, his hands on her hips, helping her rise slightly above him. She can feel his cock brushing against her as Charming angles himself, and then she feels his cock slide into her as she sinks down on him.

The friction from the angle of it makes her whimper, and the sensation of his throbbing cock practically sheathed in her makes her moan. She can feel him, the entire length of him, and the friction when she rocks on him is such sharp pleasure it is almost painful. 

She presses her hands against the bed to steady herself, and the change of angle makes her whimper again. Charming seems content to let her move, to let her decide the angle and pace, simply leaning back and moaning her name as she rocks on him. She feels increasingly breathless as her pleasure mounts – every movement sends a sharp jolt of pleasure, every moment of him hard inside her seem to pool together to become a rising tide of pleasure.

It's good, overwhelmingly good, overwhelming everything as she lets herself be carried away by the pleasure and just feel. Distantly, she can feel Charming twitch inside her as her orgasm seems to push him into his too. As her breathing slows, she can feel him kissing her shoulder and the back of her neck. 

“Quite the ride, Lady Snow,” he murmurs, and she chuckles. “You have rewarded me more greatly than I could ever imagine.”

“Oh,” she breathes, softly sliding off him and standing up. “I am not done.”

He looks at her as she turns around, gazing down at him fondly for a moment. He looks very good like this, peeking up at her through lowered eyelids, cheeks flushed, but she is pretty sure she can make him look even better.

“Lady Snow?” he asks. “Please, you do not have to feel obliged to extend your reward.”

“I don't feel obliged to,” she says, smiling cheekily. “I feel inclined to.”

She kneels down between his legs, leaning forward to lick the tip of his cock, once, twice, three times before taking him into her mouth. She can taste herself as she does, mingled with the taste of him, slightly salty on her tongue. 

Charming is watching her intently, mouth slightly open as she takes as much of him as she can manage without choking, before moving up and down on him, licking the tip every time before going down on him again. She can hear his uneven breaths and increasing awestruck moans, and feel him grow harder and thicker as she continues. 

She begins using her hands too, pumping his shaft slightly and cupping his balls, occasionally peeking up to take in his expressions. He looks great like this, she thinks, lashes dark against his skin whenever he closes his eyes, lost to the pleasure she is giving him. Increasing pleasure, and he looks absolutely fantastic as he comes. 

He falls back on the bed, gasping her name, and she swallows, and swallows again before climbing up in bed with him.

“You are a woman of many talents, Lady Snow,” he says breathlessly. She smiles at him, and he strokes her cheek fondly. “You must be starved. Let me get you some food and drink.”

He does. He dresses her in his shirt, and she gets to enjoy the sight of him shirtless as he serves her cold water and smoked ham in bed. It may be a simple meal, but tastes wonderful, and she has to admit their activities has left her hungry. He eats too, and puts the rest away when they're done. 

“Are you tired?” he asks softly, and she shakes her head. He sits down on the bed next to her, and leans forward to kiss her softly, caressing her lips with his own. 

She sighs into it, closing her eyes as he kisses her cheeks and then her eyelids. She can feel his hands at her waist, and isn't really surprised when he pulls the shirt off her. Charming did always enjoy the sight of her naked very, very much.

“Lie down,” he urges, and she opens her eyes to look at him. 

“I am meant to reward you,” she points out.

“Then lie down,” he says persuasively. “You are a reward in itself, Lady Snow. I am very much inclined to enjoy you, if you will let me.”

She licks her lips, then nods. She lies down in bed, watching him as he sheds his leather pants before moving into the bed next to her. He kisses her softly yet again, his lips brushing hers tenderly, before he moves to her neck, licking and lightly sucking a path downwards. One of his hands have moved to her breast, his thumb stroking her nipple and making her arch against him. His other hand is stroking her skin, and every touch and kiss makes her skin feel flushed. His body feels warm against hers, and it all adds to the increasing pleasure that feels like heat, infusing her body. 

His trail of kisses move to her other breast, and she gasps when he lightly circles her nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth and making her moan. Her nipples already feel hard, but somehow manage to harden even more against his mouth and thumb. 

After a while, she can feel his right hand move down her stomach, and then frustratingly slip onto her inner thigh to trace patterns there. Again and again, he brushes his fingers up her thigh, teasingly closer every time until she is pressing against him impatiently. She can feel him grin at that, shifting his mouth to her other breast and then he finally, finally brushes two fingers between her legs and she whimpers. 

Their earlier go has left her already sensitive, and the sensation when he slides two fingers into her while his thumb presses down is so strong she bites her lip almost hard enough to draw blood. Slowly, slowly, he slides his fingers out and in, his mouth moving across her stomach, open-mouthed kisses she knows where are going. 

“Charming,” she pleads, not sure exactly what she's asking for. 

“I'm enjoying my reward,” he reminds her. “Just enjoy, you told me.”

Just isn't the word, she thinks, feeling her eyes slide shut. There is nothing just about how it feels with two of his fingers inside her and his mouth hot against her, nothing just at all. It is a myriad of sensations, all of them so good that they add up to a feeling that can't really be described. It grows and grows, every touch of his fingers and tongue increasing it until it's too much and she feels herself at the brink, orgasm about to crash into her.

“Yes,” Charming whispers, voice husky. He is determined to enjoy her lost to pleasure, she realizes, feeling him move up to face her and thrust into her as she comes, the feeling of her orgasm against his cock making him draw a sharp breath. He simply holds still, deep inside her, while she shudders, and he kisses her face lovingly. 

Her orgasm is great, oh so great, and lasts. It takes her quite a few moments to be able to focus enough to open her eyes, her head still swimming and leaving her dizzy from pleasure. 

“Hi,” Charming murmurs.

“Mmm,” she manages, and he kisses her, tugging at her bottom lip until she parts her lips and lets him deepen the kiss. She can feel his tongue brush hers as he begins moving inside her too, deep, angled strokes that thrust into her quickly, and then lingers when he's as deep as he can get. It soon has her moaning into his mouth, and he hums happily, his hands slowly stroking her sides. He seems to be in no rush, content to thrust into her at same steady pace, ever so patient. He is enjoying himself all right, she is certain, but then, so is she. It's hard not to, when he is kissing her hotly and fucking her thoroughly. 

The pleasure is not as overwhelming as before, but far more enduring, seeming to stretch on forever. He keeps kissing her, mouth encasing hers, tongue dancing against hers again and again. He keeps thrusting into her, burying himself in her, each stroke of his cock good, so good, that she never wants it to end. She just wants to remain like this, adrift in pleasure, lost in Charming, joined in pleasure. 

Nothing is forever, of course, and even if she loses track of time and it seems to go on for a small, wonderful eternity, eventually, her pleasure becomes an orgasm she can't hold back, rising up in her and claiming her. It is a deluge of pleasure, filling her, and she feels afloat in it. 

When she regains her sense, she's aware of Charming making a few sharp thrusts into her, then shuddering as he comes. As he did, she kisses his face softly, feeling his hips jerk against hers until he stills and smiles down at her. 

“My charming knight,” she says, and he gives her a soft kiss. 

“My Snow,” he says lovingly. He shifts himself off her, lying down and pulling her into his arms and arranging the blankets around them. “You reward has been... Enjoyable beyond words.”

“Oh,” she says, pressing a kiss against his chin. “I am not done. You see, having... fucked you, my Charming, I am afraid that I would be very much distressed if I could not continue fucking you.”

“Snow,” he says, voice husky, “when you talk like that...”

“Like what?” she says cheekily, and he gives her a stern look. “Do you enjoy hearing me talk about how much I enjoy fucking?”

“Yes,” he growls, kissing her, a hard, demanding kiss that makes her breath catch. “You know very well that hearing you speaking about fucking me, being fucked by me, makes me want to do that very, very badly.”

“I know,” she admits. “That is half the fun of it, seeing how much it turns you on.”

“Half the fun?” he echoes. “What is the other half?”

“The fucking itself, of course,” she says, grinning, and he groans again.

“Snow...” He shakes his head. “Just half the fun? Once I've recovered, we shall see about that fucking and how fun it is.”

She hums happily, and he kisses her again, licking into her until she is moaning against his tongue. Only then does he pull back, stroking her cheek and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“I will stay with you, Lady Snow,” he promises. “If not being able to fuck me would truly distress you so, then I will stay with you forever. After all, I would not wish to leave you a damsel in distress.”

“Very gallant of you, my charming knight,” she says, lowering her head to his chest. 

He chuckles, and she falls asleep to his hands stroking her back lovingly.

(She wakes to him giving her the promised fucking – kissing the back of her neck lovingly, thrusting into her from behind while his fingers brush against her, making her whimper his name helplessly and admitting his fuckings are always a lot more than half the fun before he lets her come.)


	8. In Which Snow and Charming Play With New Firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt for my advent calendar asking for Snow & Charming talk about anal sex and maybe trying it. As such, this does feauture anal sex. Don't read if not your thing.

II

Chapter Seven: In Which Snow and Charming Play With New Firsts

II

Snow is being unusually thoughtful, Charming notices. It's not because she wasn't satisfied – he damn well felt just how satisfied she was as she whimpered his name and her whole body shuddered with delight – but clearly, she has something on her mind that not even an orgasm could shake.

He doesn't push her, though. She will tell him in time, so he merely occupies himself with kissing her neck and her shoulder, occasionally licking and sucking lightly when he can't help himself.

“Charming?” she finally says, shifting slightly to look at him.

“Yes?” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her hair is rather tangled from their activities earlier, and he rather loves this messy look on her. Snow's look of sex – the most attractive look on her. 

“Have you ever thought about trying anal sex?” she asks, and his mind goes completely blank for a moment. Then a lot of images seem to slam into him at once, all involving Snow's ass. 

He swallows.

“I...” he says. “I suppose I've... thought about it once or twice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She nods slowly. “You haven't mentioned it as one of your fantasies.”

“No,” he admits. “I... It hasn't really been a fantasy. The only things I truly fantasize about with you are the things I know will bring you pleasure too. Anal sex... I've heard it isn't always good for the woman. It can be, but isn't always. I don't want anything that isn't good for you.” 

“I know,” she says, kissing his chest. “Everything we've done, we've done together. I don't know if this is something we'd enjoy – but I would like to find out. Together, like we do everything.”

He nods, his mind racing and already starting to plan. “We'll find out. Together. But Snow, I'd like to.... look into a few things first. How best to do it. I want... I need it to be good for you too, Snow, or it won't be for me. Your pleasure is my pleasure.”

“Okay,” she says softly. She smiles, then lifts her head and kisses him. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he says, and then commits a good half an hour to show her just how much.

II

The last time Charming remembers being this nervous about sex with Snow was their first time. He supposes this is a first of a kind too. At least this first he has prepared for as best he can.

He's bought a lot of lube. Two different kinds, even, just in case. He also got a new small sex toy specifically made for anal use. He's moved several additional pillows into their bed to make sure Snow will be comfortable. He's changed the sheets into something easily washable. He's spent days read up on the topic, especially on what's important to consider the first time doing it. 

“Charming?”

He turns around to see Snow emerge into the bathroom. She's showered, and has put on sheer white nightgown that leaves very little to the imagination and clings to her curves as she moves up to him. She smells faintly of soap and moisturizer as she slips her hands around his waist. He is only wearing a robe and his boxers, and the sensation of her skin against his makes him sigh and feel slightly less tense. 

“Hey,” she says softly. “You look nervous.”

“I am,” he admits. “Aren't you?”

“A little,” she says. “But I trust you, Charming. Remember the first time we tried tying each other up?”

“Mmm,” he says, imagining it. Snow blindfolded and tied to the headboard, writhing underneath him; and then him, feeling her but not seeing her as she fucked him. “Oh, I do. Very well.”

“I was nervous then,” she says. “You made it wonderful, Charming.”

“No,” he says firmly. “ _We_ made it wonderful. Together.”

He slips his hands down and underneath her nightgown, squeezing her ass, and when she makes a soft gasp, he kisses her hotly. She tip-toes eagerly into the kiss, her tongue brushing his as he deepens the kiss; at the time time he caresses her ass thoroughly, stroking and caressing every inch of skin exposed to him. 

She is panting softly as he pulls back, her eyes slightly lidded.

“Promise me you'll tell me if you're in pain or want me to stop,” he says.

“I promise,” she says sincerely. 

“I've... planned how best to do this,” he says, and she grins.

“Of course you have,” she says, giving him a peck. “You're the only man I know who can devote as much time to plan how to fuck his wife as how to win a battle.”

“Hey!” he pouts. “Unfair. I devote _more_ time to plan how to fuck my wife, thank you.”

She laughs; he lifts her up and carries her to the bed and sits down with her on his lap. 

“So what does this plan entail, then?” she asks, running her hands down his chest. 

“You becoming relaxed,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow as if to challenge him to say how. “I'm going to use my fingers and my mouth on you, Snow, and I won't stop until you've come.”

“Yes,” she says breathlessly. “And?”

“After that, we'll try how it feels with a finger or two inside your ass,” he says, and her lips part slightly. “We'll try a little toy too, if you like that. If any of it doesn't feel right to you, we'll stop it there, and do other fun things instead.”

“And if it does feel right to me?” she prompts.

“Then,” he says slowly, lifting her hands above her. “Then you'll lie on your stomach on these pillows, and first I will fuck you until you come on my cock so hard I can feel it, and then... Then we'll see how you feel about my cock in your ass.”

“Yes,” she says, closing her eyes as he pulls the nightgown off her and tosses it aside; she is wearing absolutely nothing underneath. Just skin, her wonderful smooth skin, and he cups her breasts in his hands while lowering his head to her neck and sucking. 

He takes his time, as he likes to do. His thumbs caresses her nipples until they're hard; his mouth leaves several marks on her neck as he sucks and lightly bites and she just clings to him. He can feel her shift slightly on his lap, seeking the friction, as always slightly impatient. 

He loves her like this, he has to admit. All this desire, all this want, all Snow, all for him, and it makes him the luckiest man in the world. 

Gently, he lowers her onto the bed, kissing his way down her shoulder. He draws his tongue around her right nipple a few times, teasing her, before drawing it into his mouth and sucking; she moans his name in a way that makes his cock actually twitch. 

She is soon arching into his mouth as he sucks and lick, shifting his attention between her breasts while his fingers dip increasingly lower. She feels warm against his palm as he slides it between her legs, and fuck him, already wet against his finger when he slides it inside her. 

“Snow,” he murmurs huskily. 

“I... I imagined us doing this while in the shower,” she says, panting slightly. “I...”

“Made an advance start,” he surmises. “Did you touch yourself, Snow? Did you brush your fingers inside yourself like this?”

He runs two fingers inside her as deep as he can imagine, then out again, then in again, and she whimpers. 

“I... A little,” she admits, and he watches her face as he curls one finger inside her. “ _Charming_.”

“Mmm,” he says, running slow circles with his thumb while brushing his two fingers inside her, again and again while she parts her lips in soundless gasps and moans. “Did you keep touching yourself, Snow?”

“No,” she says, her voice strained. “I didn't make myself come. I wanted you to... I wanted....”

“This?” he asks, lowering his head between her legs. He can hear her whimper as he licks, and with increasing frequency as he alternates between licking and touching, licking and touching, licking and touching, and then... 

He can feel her muscles constrict around his fingers as she comes, and licks the taste of it, Snow and sex. He can see the tension drain from her body as her orgasm ebbs away, and her face, flushed and relaxed, is as always the most beautiful sight he knows. Snow, lost to pleasure, and just pleasure.

A good start, he thinks, and carefully turns her to lie on her stomach instead. Slowly, he arranges pillows underneath her, pausing to kiss her skin every now and then, feeling how flush it is. She is still sated, still not quite there, still relaxed, and he can detect no tension in her. 

He, on the other hand, can't help but feel a little tense. He's managed to become hard, so hard, just from touching her, and it's not about to get any easier. He's not about to let that stop him from doing it right, though. Quickly, he pulls off his robe and then his boxers, leaving him as naked as she is.

Snow sighs as he brushes kisses against her ass. He continues doing that for a while, occasionally drawing his tongue across her asshole and licking. She seems to like that, so he makes it increasingly lingering kisses.

“Good?” he asks.

“Mmm,” she simply answers, sounding dreamy. 

“I'm going to try my finger now,” he murmurs. “Tell me how it feels, Snow.”

He dips two of his fingers in lube, his heart racing a little as he then lets them circle her asshole a few times. She tenses at the first touch, as he expected, then slowly relaxes again. Only then does he press slightly, the tip of his finger slipping inside. 

“It feels...” Snow tries. “I don't know. Not painful. Just there.”

“Okay,” he says, slipping his finger in deeper. 

“Oh,” she says. She doesn't sound pained, just surprised. Gently, he runs a few circles inside her, feeling her tense, then relax around him. Carefully, he presses his other finger inside as well, feeling her stretch and adapt to the intrusion. 

“Okay?” he asks.

“Mmm,” she agrees. “Don't stop.”

He doesn't. Gently, he continues moving his fingers inside her, sometimes in circles, sometimes brushing against her. Every now and then he puts on more lube, remembering all those guides he read stressing the importance of it. 

“It feels good,” Snow murmurs after a while. “In a different way.”

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she confirms. 

“I'm going to try this little toy then,” he says, and he can hear her exhale. “If you like the feel of that, Snow, I might fuck you with it still in your ass.”

He can hear her draw a sharp breath at that, and another when he spreads his fingers a little inside her ass. She doesn't tense, though, and so he does it again, and again, before pulling his fingers out. He can hear her make a little noise of protest at that, confirming that she is enjoying this, so he feels a touch emboldened. Softly, he coats the toy in lube, making sure it is slick enough. He is determined not to hurt her, after all, so if it takes a small fortune in expensive, best quality lube, so be it.

He can see her hold her breath as he presses the toy against her asshole. Not hard, just letting her know it's there. Gently, he increases the pressure, using his fingers to help, and then, then it slides inside in a way that makes his cock twitch.

“Okay,” she says, before he can ask, and he smiles softly. Impatient, adventurous, desirous Snow. Oh, how he loves her, and loves being with her. 

He continues to press it gently further and further inside, until the plug keeps it from going further. He keeps it like that for a moment, watching Snow intently. Her eyes are closed, her cheek resting against the pillow, no sign of discomfort or pain.

Softly, he begins sliding the toy slowly in and out a few times, making sure the movement isn't uncomfortable for her. It looks sexier than he imagined, he has to admit. Snow, a sex toy in her ass, her sex still wet from earlier... It makes his mouth dry, especially when he imagines his cock deep inside her with the toy still in her ass.

But like everything he imagines, he only wants it if she does. 

“Snow?” he murmurs. “Do you want me to....?”

“Fuck me,” she says, her voice husky. “Exactly like this. Okay?”

“Okay,” he says, grinning slightly. “We're going to have to go very slowly afterwards, Snow, so to satisfy your impatient side, it will be hard and fast now.”

She whimpers, and then again as he thrusts hard into her,and burying himself to the hilt. She is wet and warm around him, and it feels so good he can hear himself moan. He can hear her skin slap against his as well, and again as he repeats the thrust, just as hard, just as deep. Again, and again, and he can feel and see Snow's pleasure at it; her muscles clenching around him, her breath hitching with moans and gasps, her ass pressing against him to meet his thrusts, her fingers clutching the headboard. He can see his cock before every new thrust, slick from her, and see the plug of the toy in her ass. 

Compared to what he just imagined it would be like, it is... It's far better. Far sexier, probably because Snow is so clearly enjoying all of it. He can feel it, he can hear it, he can see it, and it makes his own pleasure all that much more. In fact, it takes all of his will to keep himself from coming, to keep himself pounding relentlessly into her, every thrust building to her orgasm. 

“Oh God,” he hears her say. “Charming, Charming... _Charming_.”

He thrusts into her again, and she comes hard; her whole body shudders underneath him and he grits his teeth at how wonderful her orgasm feels on his cock. So good, but he can't let go yet. There is still more Snow wanted from him, and he will give it to her. 

He holds still inside her until her orgasm completely ebbs away, and he can hear her breathing slow. 

“Still want to...” he asks, but he can't even finish the question before she answers. 

“Yes,” she breathes. “Oh yes. Please.” 

“Okay,” he says. He pulls out of her, groaning at the loss. Gently, he uses his own hand to put lube on his cock, making it even slicker. He is taking no chances with Snow, after all. He coats his fingers again too, preparing. 

Snow sighs when he pulls the toy slowly out of her, her lashes dark as she closes her eyes. She feels completely relaxed as he pushes two fingers inside her, brushing and touching, readying her as best he can. 

His cock feels very large and wide as he regards it, and he swallows as he brushes it against her ass. She sighs at that, pushing her ass lightly against it, still his impatient Snow even after two orgasms. Slowly, he positions himself, making sure the pillows underneath her are placed right as well. 

His cock seems to twitch a little of his own accord as he pushes against her asshole, and again as the head of his cock slips inside. Snow makes a startled noise, and he pauses there, forcing himself to keep still.

“Snow?” he asks, and he can hear how strained his voice is. “Is it...? Is it okay? I'm not hurting you?”

He can hear her breathe. “It's... It's different. It doesn't hurt. Don't stop. Charming, don't stop.”

He exhales, then continues to push very slowly, inching his cock inside her ass. He can hear Snow breathe – not pained, or he would stop immediately – and occasionally gasp. It is different, he has to agree. Still good, oh so good, her ass stretching and pressing against his cock, but a different sort of sensation. 

He pauses about halfway inside her, and holds still there while listening to Snow's breath. Carefully, he leans forward to kiss her back. 

“Is it what you imagined?” he asks, and she moans softly as he pushes slightly deeper. “Your husband's cock in your ass like you asked for. Is it?”

“No,” she says, exhaling. “Better. So much better, Charming. Don't stop. Please don't stop.”

So he doesn't. He is slow, so very slow and gentle, as he moves inside her. He doesn't thrust, not really, just slides back and forth inside her ass. After a while, he dips his fingers inside her sex, brushing back and forth in tandem with the slow movements of his cock. He can hear her breathing become increasingly ragged and her head thrashes slightly against the pillow. 

“Please,” she says, her voice a whimper and a moan both. “Charming, _please..._ ”

She can't quite put to words what she's asking for, but he knows, oh he knows. So he curls his fingers inside her, finds her clitoris with his thumb and pushes his cock the last inch into her ass. 

It feels fucking good, he has time to register, and Snow must feel the same way. He can feel her come as he does, and after keeping it in for so long, he comes so hard it feels like a avalanche of pleasure, slamming into him and carrying him away. He more or less collapses on top of her as his hips jerk against her ass, feeling her shudder underneath him. 

“Fuck,” he groans, closing his eyes for a moment as his head is just light and heat. Slowly, he manages to lift himself on his hands, and pull himself out of her. Gently, he lies down next to Snow, and she turns over on her side and curls herself into him. 

They lie like that for a while, just breathing. He is well aware of the mess they've made and the cleaning they will eventually have to do, but for now, he's content just like this. 

After a while, Snow tips her head upwards and kisses him. “Thank you. For being willing to try.”

He grins. “The pleasure wasn't all mine, because I know you enjoy yourself a lot, but it was at least half mine, my darling. I... I kinda liked that.”

“I could tell,” she says, smiling a touch wickedly. “I... I kinda liked it too.”

“I could tell,” he says, kissing her. “What was it like for you?”

“It was....” she pauses, and seems to think. “New. Different kinds of sensations. I did like it, but in a different way. It wasn't exactly what I thought it would be, but not in a bad way. It was just different. Different good.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I know what you mean.”

She nods, biting her lip. “I think I'd like to do it again some time. It's... It's not something I think I will want every time we make love, but I think I might like to do it from time to time. Is that okay, Charming?”

“Yes,” he says. “Snow, it was wonderful, but it was wonderful because we did it together. I'd love to do it again, but only when it feels like that. When we both enjoy it. When we both want it.”

“Like everything else we do,” she says, and he nods. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says, and she leans her head against his chest, sighing happily. He has to admit that as wonderful as making her come against his mouth and fingers, fucking her hard and then fucking her ass all was, this, this is a different kind of wonderful. Snow in his arms, relaxed and sated because of him – that's pleasure too, just a different sort of pleasure.

And he can never get enough of that, just like he can never get enough of her.


End file.
